


A Home of Her Own

by rrafaelbarba



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Adoption, Angst, Background Olivia Benson/Amanda Rollins, Canon Divergent, Foster-care, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, M/M, Platonic Barson, Platonic Rollisi, but give it a read pls, i'm bad at tagging and summaries, married
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-07-04 23:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 56,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15851808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rrafaelbarba/pseuds/rrafaelbarba
Summary: Sonny knew domestic violence cases were always the most dangerous, it'd been drilled in his head since day one of the academy. He might have been expecting the gunshot that went off, and maybe the filth and ruin he found at the scene of the crime, but what he wasn't expecting was to find a little girl, hiding away in a closet, terrified of anything that moved.Even less did he expect for himself—or his husband for that matter—to grow attached to her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so ridiculously bad at writing summaries without giving too much away, so thank you for deciding to give this fic a shot! I've had this idea for about a year but had no motivation to write it until like a week ago when I decided to binge watch season 19 of SVU. For the sake of my own sanity and this fic, we're gonna pretend Undiscovered Country never happened, and Rafael is still an ADA with SVU.
> 
> Anyways, overall trigger warnings for this fic will include child abuse, descriptions of violence, and a little talk about rape/sexual assault, but nothing not referenced or discussed in the show.
> 
> Also, sorry for any typos or grammatical issues. I'm the only one who's read it over for errors, and I'm dyslexic and only have like. One brain cell.

Sonny had always been told that domestic violence cases were the most dangerous to work. There was no telling what an abusive partner would do if they were provoked, or just to keep control. On top of his training from the academy and the endless reminders from other cops, everyone in SVU had been extra careful on domestic dispute cases since Dodds’ death. It might have been four years ago, but that didn’t mean anyone forgot what happened.

Olivia still hadn’t forgiven herself.

The ride to the location of the disturbance was stressful—and not just because of Rollins’ driving—but because everyone knew the danger of domestics. They had no clue what they could be walking into; it could be anything from a fight that someone misheard and took too seriously to a gun waving in the air. Sonny felt a knot in his chest as he exited the vehicle, his hand already reaching to the gun at his waist.

“What apartment—”

Before Rollins could finish her question, the sound of gunshots rung through the air like thunder crashing in the night. In unison, they run for the door of the apartment building. The knot in Sonny’s chest hadn’t gone away yet, and he wasn’t expecting it to until he knew for a fact that the danger had been resolved. In cases like this, he always found himself hoping the gun went off by mistake.

That was never the case.

They ran to the apartment the complaint had been made against. Neighbors were poking their heads out the doors, clearly confused as to what was taking place. As they ran through the hallway, Sonny heard Liv yelling for them to go back inside. To Sonny’s surprise, the door was unlocked. They barged through the door, only to see a man standing over a woman’s body. The second he saw them, he took off in the direction of the fire escape. Rollins, Fin, and Benson took pursuit of the suspect, Liv yelling back at Sonny to check the girl.

Sonny bent down by the woman and took her pulse. The wound was to her chest, still bleeding profusely. The room smelled of gunpowder and smoke, a smell Sonny hated that he was so used to. The sight of dead bodies was never pleasant, but it was just a part of his job. He’d lost track of how many terrible things he’d seen on the job; this woman’s death—while tragic—was nothing he hadn’t seen before.

He stood up and looked around the room. It was a wreck, looking like it hadn’t been cleaned in months. There were dishes piled up in the sink, clothes and trash thrown about the living room, a few children’s toys broken and scattered throughout the room, needles and bottles laying on the couch…

_Children’s toys._

_Fuck._

Sonny started to check the rooms he couldn’t see from where he entered the apartment. The living room and kitchen were clear, a bedroom clear, and the bathroom clear. Sonny opened the door to the last room, only to find it nearly empty. Calling it a room might have been an overstatement, though. It was the tiniest room he’d ever been in in his life, and that was counting the remarkably small dorms he stayed in during college. There was a small mattress in the corner, a pile of clothes next to the frameless bed, and a barbie doll laying discarded at the edge of the room. It barely looked livable, especially for a child.

There was a closet in the room, just like there’d been in the master bedroom. Sonny wasn’t sure what would be worse, him opening the door to find a child or if there was nothing inside the closet at all. Maybe he could convince himself that ACS took the child months ago, and no one had bothered to clean up the room. Maybe a family member adopted the child. There were a hundred _maybes_ that Sonny hoped was the case.

Hoping never got him too far, though. Not with this job.

Upon opening the door, Sonny saw the smallest toddler he’d ever seen, huddled up in the corner with tears streaming down her face. She was holding a ratty stuffed bunny, trying her best to push herself further back into the closet. Sonny felt his heart drop at the sight of the little girl. She looked like she’d gone through hell and back. Her long red hair was matted and dirty, her clothes were ripped and a mix of too small and too big, and her arm was bruised. Seeing kids like this always made Sonny the angriest; he didn’t understand how anyone could do this to a child. If anything made him want vengeance more so than justice, it was sights like this.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he started, giving the girl a smile. She was sobbing and still trying to push herself further into the closet, despite being already pushed into the corner. “It’s okay, sweetie. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She shook her head, a sob wracking her little body. Sonny was heartbroken at the mere thought of what this little girl must’ve gone through to make her so terrified. He hoped to God that the rest of his squad had caught the son of a bitch who did this to her.

“My name is Sonny, I’m here to help,” he tried, slowly reaching his hand into the closet and offered it to her. “Everything’s gonna be okay, we’re gonna get you somewhere safe.” She kept shaking her head and crying. Sonny really didn’t want to traumatize the girl even more by pulling her out of the closet.

“Is that bunny you have there yours?”

Through her sobs, she nodded.

“How about you take him with you? He can keep you company, keep you safe. Whaddya say?”

The little girl appeared to think it over. Slowly, she started to scoot towards Sonny, eventually taking his hand. He helped her out of the closet and kept held of her hand. He stayed at her eye level before gently putting his hand on her shoulder. She flinched, but she didn’t run back to the closet like he feared. “I’m gonna pick you up now, and we’re gonna run out of here. Is that okay with you?”

She nodded, holding her bunny closer to her chest.

Sonny picked the girl up and made sure her face was buried in his neck as he bolted from the room. The girl was clearly traumatized, the last thing he wanted her seeing was her mother’s dead body on the floor of her home.

He called for a bus as he got downstairs, still holding onto the little girl. Outside, Amanda, Fin, and Olivia stood around their cars. They looked out of breath and frustrated, looks that soon turned to horror upon seeing Sonny walk out the door with a little girl.

“The mom?” Olivia asked, her voice low.

Sonny just shook his head. “You lose him?”

Amanda sighed and nodded in response. “He was a fast son of a bitch.”

“We need to get her to a hospital,” Sonny said, his eyes darting to the little girl in his arms.

“I’ll ride with her,” Olivia offered, holding her arms out to take the girl. Instead of letting Olivia take her, the little girl started to sob and shake again, her grip tightening on Sonny.

“I’ll go, Lieu. I don’t wanna upset her anymore.”

Olivia nodded and then turned to Fin and Rollins. “We need to get up there and check everything. We need to find the gun, too. Let’s go.”

The three made their way to the apartment, leaving Sonny to his own with the little girl. She was still crying, but not sobbing as profusely as before. He got into the ambulance with her and let the EMTs take it from there. Besides the bruise on her arm, she didn’t appear to have any major, visible, trauma for them to handle on their way to Bellevue.

The emotional trauma, though? Sonny could only begin to imagine.

 

\--

 

            The station was somber as Sonny arrived with the little girl in tow. Everyone had heard about the little girl, terrified and clearly abused, hiding in a closet. It might’ve been just another day at SVU, but that didn’t change the fact that it was terrible. Despite their jobs, no one liked to acknowledge that there were countless numbers of children just outside their door being abused until they had to face it.

Sonny hated how much he was faced with situations like this.

The little girl—she hadn’t told anyone her name yet, or even talked for that matter—had her arms wrapped around him, her head resting on his shoulder. He wasn’t quite sure why she trusted him so much, but the doctor had supposed it had something to do with him getting her out of that apartment and to safety. The fact that she trusted him made Sonny feel better, but it didn’t change the fact that this case was weighing heavy on his heart and mind. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to keep himself from pummeling the bastard that did this to her into the ground when he found him.

Maybe he’d let Rollins or Olivia handle the arrest.

He carried the little girl into the room they talked to victims in. Liv was already sitting on the couch inside, awaiting Sonny’s return. She stood up as she saw them enter, looking at Sonny and then the little girl. “What did you find out?”

“She’s malnourished, and there’s signs of physical abuse, but no sexual abuse. She has a broken rib that’s been healed for a while and some bruising on her stomach,” he informed her. It felt wrong to talk about it with the girl still in his arms, but it wasn’t like he could put her down. Besides, he doubted she even knew what half the words that came out of his mouth meant.

Olivia had the same face he assumed he made when the doctor told him about the girl’s abuse and malnourishment. She’d been doing this a lot longer than he had, she’d seen more of the depravity that seemed to plague humanity than he’d seen, and she still looked heartbroken whenever these cases came up. Sonny didn’t blame her; he didn’t think any sane person would be able to be completely used to and unaffected by cases as heartbreaking as this one.

“I’m gonna talk with her,” he said, giving the little girl’s back a gentle rub. “I’m guessing you already called ACS?”

Olivia nodded. “And Barba.”

“Yeah, I assumed,” he said. Olivia gave him a sympathetic look before leaving the room. He assumed she’d be watching from the other side of the window, maybe along with Barba and some poor, overworked, ACS agent when they showed up.

Sonny brought the girl over to the toys in the room. “Is it okay if I put you down here with the toys?”

The girl nodded in his arms. There was a tiny desk with chairs far too small for Sonny, but that didn’t stop him from sitting in the one across from the girl. “I know today’s been real long for you,” he started, suddenly feeling completely and totally out of depth. “Did you like the food Doctor Snow gave you at the hospital?”

The little girl nodded.

“Can I ask you some questions?” he asked, keeping his tone gentle, using the same voice he used with his niece or Jesse when they were upset. “You can play while I ask.”

The girl held onto her bunny before pulling it from her chest and looking at it. She hadn’t made eye contact with Sonny the entire time she’d been with him, besides when she was cowering in the closet.

“What’s your name?”

Silence.

“My name’s Sonny,” he said, repeating what he was sure she’d forgotten from earlier. “Does your bunny have a name?”

She nodded.

“Can you tell me?”

She looked up at Sonny after a few moments of staring at her bunny, playing with the one tattered ear it had left. “Bee.”

“Bee the bunny, I like that,” Sonny said, a smile on his face. “Do you have a name, too?”

She nodded, pulling Bee up to her chest again. She turned her head to look at the toys next to her and then back to Sonny. “You can play with whatever you want.”

Tentatively, she reached over and picked up a barbie doll. It was in significantly better shape than the one she had in her broom closet of a room. It’s hair blonde and smooth, a long pink dress on its tiny, plastic, frame while the one back at the apartment had been covered in dirt and was missing an arm. She stared at the doll for a few seconds before running her finger over the doll’s hair.

“Annabelle.”

“Annabelle,” Sonny repeated. “That’s a pretty name.”

No response. Sonny had known this wasn’t going to be easy from the get go, but he still felt like he was sinking. This little girl had clearly seen things and had things done to her that no one should have done to anyone, much less someone so young.

“Do you know how old you are, Annabelle?”

She nodded, putting three fingers up and showing Sonny. “This many.”

“ _Wow,_ three!” his voice was excited and gentle for her benefit, but underneath the surface he felt a wave of nausea hit him like a wave upon a shore. She was too tiny to be three. He’d assumed she was _barely_ two. “So, Annabelle, can you tell me about your home? What are your mommy and daddy like?”

She’s quiet for a few seconds again, all the while running her finger through the barbie’s hair. She seemed deep in concentration about the hair atop the plastic head. It was smooth and clean opposed to the matted and dirty mop that sat on her head.

“Mommy gets mad when I cry,” she said. “She doesn’t like it.”

“Yeah? What happens when you cry?” he asked, afraid because he already knew the answer.

“She gets mad,” she repeated. “I don’t like to cry. She hurts me when I cry.”

Sonny didn’t feel so sorry for the dead woman in the apartment anymore. He’d been seeing her as the victim in all this, but if she’d been the one who was responsible for her daughter’s malnourishment and abuse, then he supposed she got what she deserved.

“Was that your mommy’s house we found you at?”

She nodded.

“Where’s your daddy?”

“I dunno.”

“That’s okay, that’s okay.” He leaned back in the child’s chair he sat at. He could tell he was going to cramp up if he sat there like that for much longer, but he was willing to suffer through it if it meant that Annabelle told him what had happened to her.

“What happened today? Before I came and found you in your room?”

“Mommy was mad I spilled apple juice. She hit me and put me in my room and told me not to leave.”

“Yeah?” Sonny asked, fighting to keep a cheerful demeanor. “Did anything else happen?”

She was silent for a few seconds, looking down at Bee in her arms. “Will you tell?”

He shook his head. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“I heard yelling and left my room. There was a man outside and he looked at me funny. Then mommy yelled at me to go back to my room.” She played with Bee’s ratty arms as she spoke, bouncing him up and down on her lap. “I got scared so I hid in the closet with Bee.”

“Then what happened?”

“Loud bang, then more screaming. Bee was scared.”

Sonny felt his heart break a little. She’d heard her mother get shot and she had no clue what had even happened. “Well, you did a really good job at protecting Bee. He’s all safe, right?”

She inspected her bunny and then looked up at Sonny. She nodded and pulled Bee to her face, giving him a kiss. It would’ve been cuter if not for the fact she’d just told him her mother beat her for spilling apple juice before hearing her get shot.

“What did this man look like?” Sonny asked, though he wasn’t sure how much help she’d be. He could already imagine a defense attorney tearing into the fact they got their eyewitness statement from a three-year-old.

“Mean,” she answered. “His hair was brown.” 

“Very good, thank you,” Sonny said. He knew _mean with brown hair_ wasn’t a very good description, but it was all they had at the moment. “Annabelle, do you have anywhere else you go? Maybe not with your mommy?”

“No,” she said, not taking as long to respond this time. “Mommy leaves a lot.”

“Does she leave you alone?”

“Uh-huh. I get hungry but no food. Sometimes she brings me grapes or candy.”

Sonny hated to think it, but he was glad the woman was dead. He remembered his surroundings as he’d entered the apartment; vodka bottles and needles littered the room. He could only imagine what life was like for Annabelle, her mom beating her and leaving her home alone, only bringing her back grapes and candy to eat. He wondered if she ever bothered to actually feed her child when she was home, or if she just fed her daughter scraps. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to know what else CSU uncovered, but he was sure it wasn’t pretty.

He took a deep breath to calm himself down. He couldn’t blow his lid in front of the already terrified child, not when he was getting her to a place where she was actually talking. “Thank you for telling me, Annabelle. You’re very brave, you know?” He was quiet for a second, watching her as she looked over to him with a strange look he couldn’t identify. “Do you want something to eat? Some water?”

Her green eyes met his again, twinkling with a hint of joy for the first time since he’d met her. The doctor hadn’t given her much at the hospital, just enough to put something in her stomach. She’d advised Sonny to get her something to eat and drink once they were back at the precinct.

“Can I have chips?”

“Yeah, sure thing,” he said, standing up and offering a hand to her. She stared at it for a second before standing up and taking it. Sonny was still blown away at how small she was. When his niece was that age she was nearly a head taller, the same with Jesse. He found himself wondering if maybe she was premature, or if it was just the malnourishment that made her so small, or maybe her mother’s apparent alcohol and drug addiction had anything to do with how small she was.

He walked Annabelle into the break room, shooing out the unis drinking coffee at the table. They seemed a little pissed until the noticed the little girl holding Sonny’s hand. They seemed to put two and two together and made themselves scarce. Sonny walked Annabelle to the vending machine and watched as she stood on her tip toes to see what was inside. She seemed fascinated with the contents of the machine, eyeing each and every bag like it was brand new.

“What kind do you want?” he asked, bending down so he was eye level with her again.

With the hand that wasn’t holding Bee, she pointed to a bag of Cheetos. “Orange one.”

“Good choice.” Sonny punched in the code to the Cheetos before reaching into the machine, opening the bag for her, and giving them to her. She reached into the bag and took out a Cheeto, staring at it for a second before plopping it in her mouth. For the first time since he’d seen her, she smiled.

“Are they good?”

She nodded. “Yummy.”

Sonny laughed a little and reached out to take her hand again. She tucked Bee under her arm and took his hand in her own, her Cheetos clutched tightly in her other. He led her back to the interview room and helped her up on the couch. “I have to go talk to my friend real quick, is that okay?”

“Come back?”

“Don’t you worry. I’ll only be a few minutes. You wanna watch TV?” he asked, reaching over to the remote that sat on the desk.

She appeared deep in thought before leaning in close, like she had some grave secret to disclose to him. It couldn’t be worse than anything else she’d told him in the previous thirty minutes. “Mommy doesn’t like TV.”

Sonny took a deep breath to calm himself down once again. Her mother had no problem beating her and only feeding her grapes and candy, but apparently her screen time was where she decided to parent.

“Well, I won’t tell if you won’t.” He turned the TV on to a kid’s channel, playing some Disney movie he didn’t know the name of. “I’ll be right back, okay? If you need anything just call for me, and I’ll be right back.” 

“Wait,” she called, pulling on Sonny’s sleeve before he could walk away. “Do I have to go home?”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. He didn’t have it in him to explain death to a three-year-old; he couldn’t tell her that she couldn’t go back to her sorry excuse of a home because her mother was dead. She didn’t seem like she wanted to go back home, either way, if the look on her face was any indication, but it was still a conversation _someone_ would have to have with her at some point. Honestly, he didn’t know what would happen to her. Whatever it was, though, he had to believe that it would be better than what she’d endured so far.

“Nah, not anytime soon,” he answered. “You can stay here for a bit, okay? Watch some TV and eat some Cheetos with Bee. That sound good?”

She nodded and went back to her Cheetos and looking intently at the TV. Sonny took one last look at her before he left the room. She was wearing shoes that were clearly too small, a shirt two sizes too big, and a pair of pants that had more holes in them than a slice of swiss cheese, each article of clothing dirtier than the next. The bruising on her left arm was turning yellow, spots of purple still marking her otherwise pale skin.

Sonny walked into the adjoining room, his shoulders feeling like a weight was resting on them. He wanted nothing more to run back into that room, scoop Annabelle up, and take her somewhere no one would ever hurt her again. He could never understand how someone could be so evil that they could hurt an innocent child, especially if that child was their own.

Inside the room already was Olivia, Amanda, and Rafael. Sonny had never been so pleased to see his husband in his life. Normally, they tried to remain professional at work, but today was different. Sonny felt like he’d been socked in the stomach and he just wanted to remind himself there was _something_ good left in the world.

Rafael obviously recognized this the second Sonny walked into the room. As Sonny approached them, Rafael reached over and twined their fingers together, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. For a second, they pretended Olivia and Amanda weren’t in the room, pretended it was just them and they weren’t in the middle of a case that was already clawing at Sonny’s heart.

“You okay?” Rafael asked, his voice gentle in the way that was reserved for people he really cared for.

“Been better,” Sonny muttered. If not for the fact Olivia and Amanda were four feet away from them, Sonny might’ve collapsed into his husband’s arms and let him hold him until he felt some semblance of better.

Rafael leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, quick and gentle before turning back to Olivia and Amanda. “What do you know about the mother?”

“If you can even call her that,” Sonny interjected, venom in his voice.

“Rachel Baker, 24 years old,” Amanda started, picking up a case file laying on Olivia’s desk. “She’s been arrested a couple of times for solicitation, drug possession, and assault. She did a year bid in Attica when she was nineteen for stabbing a guy.”

Sonny furrowed his brow. “Only a year?”

“Yeah, apparently, she barely stabbed him, just enough he needed a couple of stitches. It wasn’t serious, so it was pled down. The guy she stabbed didn’t seem to be too concerned about putting her in jail, but he still pressed charges.” Amanda flipped the page and skimmed through the paper for a moment before looking back to Sonny and Rafael, fingers still locked together. “ACS has been called on her before, but I guess they dropped the ball.”

“Tell me about it,” Sonny grumbled. He looked over to Annabelle, now licking Cheeto dust of her fingers. She pulled out another Cheeto and offered it to Bee. That, and the gentle squeeze to his hand, made Sonny feel a bit better.

“They checked in a few times, and apparently everything was fine. She was working on treatment, was sober for a while, but…” Amanda trailed off and looked over at Annabelle. “Well.”

“Did ACS never notice Annabelle’s bruises? She had a broken rib at one point! I saw the bruises on her stomach and arm, that woman beat her kid for anything. For spilling fucking apple juice, I—”

“Babe,” Rafael got Sonny’s attention. Sonny didn’t realize how hard his grip on his husband’s hand had gotten, but Rafael didn’t seem to mind. Sonny was getting worked up, though, and he knew that wouldn’t help them.

Sonny lessened his grip on Rafael’s hand and let out a breath. He’d seen a lot of abused children cases, but this one was different. He’d never had an abused child clutch onto him and cry because she was afraid of him letting her go. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Olivia said, giving him a sympathetic smile. “Do we know anything about the father?”

“We need a DNA sample from Annabelle, so we can run it through CODIS. I mean, a mother like that, I bet the father’s in the system,” Amanda said, sighing and flopping the file back on the desk.

“I’ll get one when I go back in,” Sonny said, eyes still intently watching Annabelle. “Anything on the shooter?”

“Not much,” Olivia admitted, frustration adamant in her voice.

“How’d he get away, anyways?” Rafael asked. The hand that wasn’t holding his own reached out to look at the file Amanda had put down. Sometimes Sonny was surprised at how Rafael could be seemingly two different people at once. Their coworkers always noted how strange it was to see him be affectionate with his husband while maintaining his professional composure.

“He was fast, like, really fast.” Amanda leaned against Olivia’s desk, frustration clear in her face. Amanda was probably the fastest runner out of the squad, and she hadn’t been able to catch the guy. That said a lot. “And I mean, we couldn’t shoot. There were civilians everywhere, and then he ran into traffic and we lost sight of him.”

“Did you get a good description?”

“White, early to mid-thirties, wearing a beanie, dark grey jacket and black jeans—”

“Great, so every other thirty-year-old in Manhattan,” Rafael quipped, cutting Olivia off in the process. He looked over to Annabelle for a moment before looking back at Olivia. “What about her? Any known relatives? Grandparents, siblings, aunts…”

“Nothing. Rachel was put into foster-care when she was five, bounced around until she was sixteen and she ran away. She got picked up for solicitation for the first time at seventeen,” Amanda informed. “We called ACS, they should be here soon.”

“Yeah, ‘cause they did such a great job the first time,” Sonny snapped.

Olivia sighed, Amanda turned her head away from the window, and Rafael put the file down and leaned into his husband’s side.

No one had an argument for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have about five chapters written as of now (about the halfway point, I think), so I should update about once or twice a week, depending on how I'm feeling and how fast I finish this. Getting positive feedback would definitely feed my ego though, so feel free to leave me kudos/comments if you wanna read more faster lmao. Anyways, thanks for reading! Leave kudos/comments if you enjoyed it!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YALLLL i'm so blown away with all the positive feedback this fic has gotten??? i'm so soft yall are so sweet. like i said last chapter i've had this planned in my head for like a year and never had the motivation to write it up until now so it really means a lot that people like it!!! thank you so much for reading, commenting, and giving kudos it makes me happy and gay 
> 
> anyways like i said before, i apologize for any typos or grammatical errors. i'm still dyslexic and stupid. one day i'll go back and reread each chapter for the fifth time and try and fix all my issues lmao 
> 
> also if anyone wants to, you can follow me on my svu side blog on tumblr!!! https://rrafaelbarba.tumblr.com

Amanda hadn’t seen Sonny get this emotional on too many cases. She understood what it was like, though. Everyone had one—or more than one—case that really got to them, the one that wouldn’t let them sleep at night until they resolved it. Sometimes it stuck with them forever, haunting their dreams and their waking hours alike. She had her own, so did Liv, so did Fin… she’d be hard press to find a cop that didn’t. It was hard to get over them, but it helped if they could bring it to a somewhat happy ending.

Unfortunately, she was in the wrong line of business, if happy endings were what she was looking for.

They’d done a scan of the apartment beforehand but opted to let CSU go over the crime scene for DNA and anything else that could help them. Now that the scene had calmed down for the most part, her and Fin were combing through the victim’s apartment. Though, all things considered, Amanda didn’t exactly like to refer to Rachel Baker as a victim. Amanda had seen some pigsties while investigating homes of victims and suspects alike, but this was unlike anything she’d ever seen. There were alcohol bottles scattered across the room, heroin needles laying on the counter and the floor, and dishes piled so high that maggots had started to make themselves at home amongst the filth. She’d seen a cockroach or two scurrying about as they trekked through the apartment, as well.

Rachel’s room wasn’t much better than the rest of the house. Next to her bed was a nightstand, covered in fast food wrappers and bags, more discarded needles, cocaine and heroin laying on the dresser. As a mother, the room made Amanda’s skin crawl with a fury she couldn’t put into words. She felt guilty for a week because Jesse had poked herself on a sewing needle, and Rachel Baker was leaving heroin needles and narcotics around like they were candy.

But as an SVU detective, it wasn’t something that especially surprised or got to her. There were plenty of mothers out there that cared more about getting high than their children. She couldn’t count how many women she’d arrested for abusing or neglecting young children in favor of drugs or alcohol. She knew how hard it was to overcome addiction—she’d been there first hand—but she couldn’t possibly imagine putting it ahead of her child. The mere idea of gambling made her sick because she knew what it could do to Jesse.

“You find anything in here?” Fin asked, poking his head into Rachel’s room.

Amanda nodded, motioning over to the dresser. “Yeah, CSU was right, there’s more narcotics in this room alone than anyone should see in two lifetimes.”

“Real piece of work, this one,” Fin grumbled as Amanda made her way out of the room. Other than the large stack of narcotics, there wasn’t anything of note in the room that could help them with Annabelle. “You see the girl’s room yet?”

“No,” she answered, sighing and looking towards the closed door. “Carisi said it was… _bad_ in there. Just looking at him as he described it, I mean, he was really messed up over it. I’m surprised Barba didn’t take him home.”

“I don’t think even Barba could get Carisi off a case like this,” Fin said, looking over at Amanda before starting towards the room. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Amanda followed Fin into the room, which barely had room for the both of them to stand in. “Jesus Christ,” she whispered. “That little girl slept in here?”

“Seems so.” Fin sighed before pulling his phone out to snap pictures of the sorry excuse of a room.

Amanda felt sick as her eyes scanned the room. The bed wasn’t even that, just a mattress with no fitted sheet and a dirty blanket. The pile of clothes next to the bed was obviously not clean, a cockroach crawling from underneath it and scuttering across the room. There’d been a few toys out in the living room, but it wasn’t anything special—a few blocks, a baby doll that was missing an arm and an eye, a xylophone missing most of its keys—not nearly enough to keep a normal three-year-old occupied. In the bedroom, there was only a single barbie doll, thrown to the side of the room like it was trash. There was no warmness to the room, nothing on the walls other than stains from water damage and _God_ knows what else. Amanda couldn’t imagine sleeping in the room herself, much less expecting a child to sleep in here.

As Fin took the pictures, Amanda opened the closet. There wasn’t much in it, other than another blanket, just as dirty as the last. Sonny had told Olivia that Annabelle was hiding in the closet when her mother was fighting with her assailant; it made Amanda wonder how many times little Annabelle hid in the closet to hide from her mother.

“I need to get out of this room,” she said, giving Fin a quick look of disgust before walking into the living room conjoined with the kitchen. Somehow being near the maggot infested dishes was preferable to spending another moment in that hell hole Annabelle had expected to sleep in.

If Rachel hadn’t been gunned down not five feet from where Amanda stood, Amanda would’ve done anything in her power to make sure Rachel spent the rest of her life in jail.

She surveyed the kitchen one more time as she waited for Fin to finish in Annabelle’s room. Opening the fridge revealed that Annabelle hadn’t been lying when she said there was no food. All that was left in the fridge was spoiled milk, a microwave meal—with no microwave in sight—and an uncovered bowl of soup that had a suspicious film on it. Amanda slammed the fridge shut, suddenly understanding just how angry Sonny had been. Watching him interview Annabelle had been hard enough; she could tell the girl had been through hell and back. As she stood in the middle of the kitchen, shrouded by the vileness of the room, she realized that seeing the apartment without the hustle and bustle of CSU investigating every inch was a totally different ballgame.

She slammed the door of the fridge shut in anger, hoping that maybe the motion would alleviate some of her fury. It didn’t work, not that she really thought it would, but in the process, something fell from it. There’d only been one thing stuck to the fridge previously, so small and inconspicuous Amanda hadn’t noticed it. Upon further investigation, she found it was a phone number with the letters _CR_ at the bottom.

She stared at the number, as if it was going to give her the answer to her problems just by staring at it long enough, until Fin came down the hallway. “What’s that?”

“It’s a number,” she responded, handing it over to Fin. “ _CR.”_

“Could be a take-out place. Chinese restaurant?”

“No, her bedroom was full of fast food wrappers, all from Burger King, Wendy’s, McDonalds… nothing Chinese.” Amanda took the paper back from Fin for a second before pulling an evidence bag out from her jacket. “Let’s take this back to the precinct, maybe there’s fingerprints or something that can help us. If nothing else, we can call the number and see who the hell _CR_ is.”

“Sounds good to me,” Fin responded. He looked around just as Amanda had a few seconds ago, a look of pure disgust washing over his face. “This place makes a sewer look homey,” Fin grumbled before shoving his hands in his pockets. “Let’s get out of here.”

“No arguments here,” she responded, following Fin out the door.

She never expected to be grateful of the late November air, but the second the wind started to nip at her face and chill her to the bone, she was relieved. The coldness outside, making her nose turn red and her breath appear in front of her like a cloud of ice, was nothing compared to the coldness inside that apartment.

 

\--

 

Rafael had watched as the ACS agents tore Annabelle away from his husband. Sonny had promised to come visit her, but apparently that wasn’t enough for her. She wanted to stay with him, and Rafael didn’t blame her. Sonny had probably been the first friendly face the girl had seen in… well, maybe ever.

That wasn’t something he particularly wanted to dwell on.

This case was taking a toll on everyone, but especially Sonny. Rafael hadn’t seen him this distraught over a case before, and he hated it more than anything. He hated seeing Sonny like this, hated not knowing how to fix it, hated knowing that people out there were so despicable that they’d treat their child the way Annabelle’s mother treated her, hated that his husband was always the one who had to help pick up the pieces when other people tore someone else a part. The longer he thought on it the more he felt anger rising in his body, making his stomach feel like it was full of lava and his head full of smoke.

As Sonny was handing Annabelle over to ACS, Olivia pulled Rafael to the side. “I want you to take him home,” she said, her voice full of the command she used on her detectives but laced with worry she had for Sonny. If it wasn’t evident in her voice, it was evident in her eyes; they relayed a plea that said _please make sure he’s okay, please take care of him._

Rafael nodded and looked over to Sonny, waving bye to a crying Annabelle. “He’s not going to like it.”

“Blame me,” she said, shrugging a little, a sigh coming out as she spoke. “He’s been on ten hours anyways, he needs to rest.”

He sighed and watched as Sonny stood, looking like a kicked puppy as Annabelle was finally out of sight. “I hate seeing him like this. I hate what this job does to him,” he spat, more venom in his voice than he intended.

He hadn’t meant to say it, but it was true. He hated seeing how much cases like this hurt Sonny. Each time there was a hard case—ones involving children or dead women they couldn’t help in time—Rafael was afraid it would change his husband, make him less cheery, make him stop wearing his heart on his chest. He didn’t want Sonny to change, didn’t want the job to take any more of a toll on him than it already did, and at the end of the day, there was only so much Rafael could do to make it better.

“I know, Rafa,” Olivia responded, her voice full of understanding and concern. Her hand rested on his arm for a moment as she met his gaze, her soft brown eyes giving him at least a small bit of comfort. “Tell him we’ll keep him updated if anything turns up. Just make sure he’s okay.”

After Liv walked back towards her office, Rafael walked to where Sonny stood and took his hand again. “C’mon, let’s go home.”

“I’m fine,” Sonny lied. It was a wonder he thought he could lie to Rafael after two years of marriage and over two years of dating. Sonny looked at the expression on Rafael’s face, not amused by Sonny’s assumption he could pass off as _fine_ to his husband when it would be clear to any stranger passing by that he was anything but. “Okay, I’m not fine. But I will be when we solve this case and get Annabelle in a good home.”

“You’re no use to anyone here if you’re too upset and exhausted to work,” Rafael pointed out. He turned to face Sonny, his hand still laced with his husband’s, and put his other hand on his arm, rubbing gently. He didn’t care that they were in the middle of the precinct, all he cared about was that Sonny was okay, and he clearly wasn’t. “Just come home with me, please? We can order in and watch a movie, take your mind off it just for a bit.”

Sonny sighed and pressed his forehead against Rafael’s for a moment, a clear indication that he was giving in. “Just let me get my coat.”

The Uber ride home was spent mostly in silence. As soon as they got in the car, Sonny put his head on Rafael’s shoulder and took his hand again. Rafael pressed a kiss to his forehead and wrapped his arm around him, holding him tight to his side. His stomach was still churning from hearing everything that little girl had gone through. Hearing about how disgusting the apartment was from Fin and Rollins made it ten times worse; he couldn’t imagine an adult staying there, much less a child. He’d only seen a few pictures, but it made him sick to his core. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to purge it from his brain, try as he might. He understood why it was hitting Sonny so hard, if he was in his position he’d be reeling too. Hell, he _was_ reeling, and he hadn’t even dealt with any of it first-hand.

His office was pushing him to find and prosecute whoever killed Rachel Baker. Deep down, he thought that she got what she deserved. He’d never admit that out loud— _especially_ not to his bosses—but he had no remorse for the dead woman sitting in the morgue. Not after what she’d put her daughter through.

He supposed there couldn’t be a murderer roaming the streets, though, even if he had killed a despicable excuse for a human being. The more he thought about it, the more he realized there were many facets to this case. They didn’t know who killed Rachel, they didn’t know if Annabelle was in danger, they didn’t know if they had a madman on the loose, maybe just starting a killing spree. Maybe the fact that Rachel was a horrible person had nothing to do with her murder, maybe it did. There were too many unknowns about the case, and Rafael hated not knowing things. He hated waiting for the detectives to figure out what had happened, so he could do his job. 

One thing he did know, something unfathomably known in a sea of unknowns, was that his husband was emotionally worn down from the day.

He took Sonny’s hand and walked him to the elevator, neither speaking until they got upstairs and into their apartment. Even then, Sonny was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Do you want to talk?” Rafael asked as he put his keys on the table beside the door. Sonny didn’t respond until Rafael walked up to him and put his hand on his back. Sonny jolted and turned to look at Rafael, a confused expression covering his face.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said, do you want to talk?” Rafael repeated, his voice gentle and even.

“Oh.” Sonny sighed and leaned against the wall as he took his shoes off, throwing them haphazardly to the side. Normally, that would get on Rafael’s nerves to no end, but he wasn’t about to point that out now, of all times. He could live with shoes being out of place for now if it meant he could help Sonny… not that he even knew where to start _._ “No, I’m fine. For now, at least. I’m just gonna go take a shower, can you order something?”

“What do you want?”

Sonny shrugged. “Whatever,” he answered before making off in the direction of the bathroom. The fact that Sonny had no opinion on what they should eat might have been the most worrying aspect of the entire day.

Rafael went ahead and ordered from Sonny’s favorite Italian restaurant, getting both their regular orders. They’d ordered from them so many times at this point that he didn’t even really have to order anymore. He’d call, they’d pick up and instantly ask if they wanted _the usual,_ he’d say yes, and then they’d get their food within thirty minutes. It was seamless, something they’d done on countless other nights. Countless normal nights where Sonny wasn’t carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

By the time Sonny got out of shower and changed—something Rafael had done while Sonny was showering—the food was there. It got there quicker than normal, which Rafael was incredibly grateful for; not only did he know it would make Sonny feel at least a little bit better, but he hadn’t eaten since that morning when Sonny had brought him a bagel before going back to work.

Sometimes he thinks he might forget to eat altogether if Sonny wasn’t there to remind him.

Rafael sat on the couch with their takeout in front of him on the coffee table. Sonny walked out into the living room, undoubtedly pulled from their bedroom by the smell of their dinner. His hair was still damp from the shower, he was wearing one of Rafael’s old Harvard shirts—laden with holes and stains from years of washing and wearing—and a pair of grey sweatpants; seeing him like this, casual and domestic, never failed to make Rafael feel at home. They’d been married for two years and living together for longer, and yet he still looked at Sonny like he was the only person in the world when he walked into a room.

 _“You’re just getting soft in your old age,”_ Liv had joked, nudging him in the side as they sat on her couch, glasses of wine in both their hands.

Rafael had to remind her that 1. _“I’m not old,”_ and 2. _“even if I was, you’re older than me, so what does that make you, Liv?”_

“Hey,” Sonny greeted him, sitting down on the couch next to him, immediately reaching for his food. “Thanks for ordering.”

“I was hungry, too,” Rafael reassured him, reaching for his own food. “Did you want to watch TV? Movie?”

Sonny shrugged and leaned over a bit to get closer to Rafael. “Can we just sit here? Tell me about your day, or something. I just don’t wanna think about…”

As Sonny trailed off, Rafael nodded. He started talking, in depth, about a case he was trying outside SVU. He told him about how Buchannan was pulling every delay tactic in the book to attempt to get either the case thrown out or a mistrial, how the evidence was almost perfect, except the witnesses were shaky at best, how Buchanan had offered him his most insulting plea to date, and so on and so forth. As inane and boring of a subject it was, it seemed to get Sonny’s mind off Annabelle.

“Did he really expect you to take that plea?” Sonny asked, his mouth full of his last bite of cannoli.

Rafael, like an adult, swallowed his chicken before responding. “I don’t know. If he did, he’s a dumbass. I mean, how am I supposed to plead three counts of first degree murder into manslaughter? His client wasn’t even offering anything, just the same _you don’t have a case, Barba,_ which is bullshit. At least Rita wouldn’t have wasted my time with such a bullshit plea. Seriously, he’s insufferable, I don’t…”

Rafael stopped midsentence as he noticed Sonny smiling at him, his head lulled to the side against the couch and hand drawing nonsensical shapes against Rafael’s arm. “Why’d you stop?”

“No reason, I just noticed you smiling and got distracted.”

“Gay.”

Rafael rolled his eyes and leaned in, kissing Sonny soft and slow. He could still taste his food from a moment ago on his husband’s lips, and he was suddenly regretting eating something with garlic, but Sonny didn’t seem to mind. His hand moved to the back of Rafael’s neck, playing with his hair as he let Rafael pull him closer.

They had barely seen each other in the last three days, between Rafael’s court schedule and case after case at SVU, their schedules barely lined up. It happened sometimes, and it was hard, but they always made time for each other. They could usually have lunch together, and if not, a five-minute coffee break. Olivia had stopped asking anyone else other than Sonny to bring Rafael whatever case file she needed him to look over.

Rafael tried not to think about how it was basically his husband’s boss—who was also his best friend—giving Sonny permission to go make out with his husband for ten minutes under the guise of police business.

“Did you want to talk?” Rafael asked after a few minutes of lazily kissing Sonny, pulling away slightly.

“Now?”

Rafael gave him a serious look. Sonny sighed and leaned back in his seat. “C’mere,” Rafael beckoned, motioning for Sonny to move closer. Sonny situated himself so his back was leaning against Rafael’s chest, taking Rafael’s hands as they looped around his stomach. There couch wasn’t nearly big enough for the position, but Rafael knew Sonny liked to be close to him when he was upset, and Rafael liked to be able to hold him and attempt to try and make things better, even if it just meant listening to him and holding him.

“It was just… I don’t know. Rachel was dead before we even got there, which… I mean, now knowing what I know about her, I don’t feel nearly as bad, but at the time I just got that pang of guilt I always get when I can’t help, or when I get there too late.”

Rafael let Sonny play with his fingers while he spoke, occasionally pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He knew that Sonny just needed to talk it out with someone who wasn’t going to judge him or try and fix every single issue he had as they came out his mouth. Sometimes, he just needed to vent, to feel like someone was listening. Rafael could do that.

“And then I noticed the toys. There weren’t many, but there were enough that it made me think there was a kid. I searched the house, and then I found Annabelle’s room and it was...” he trailed off, his hands stopping their fidgeting. Rafael twined his fingers with Sonny’s and held him tighter to his chest for a moment.

“Rollins showed me some of the pictures,” he interjected, saving Sonny from having to relive what the room looked like for what must’ve been the hundredth time that day.

“I found her in the closet. She was so scared… and _small._ I didn’t know if I was able to get her out of there, but I did, and I rushed her out and she just… she wouldn’t let go of me. She just kept holding on and I couldn’t figure out why until the doctor told me about her bruises and everything. I musta been the first helpful, kind, face she’s seen. She was so scared of everything, and once she realized I just wanted to help, she didn’t want to let go of that. Of me.

“And when she was telling me about her mother I just… I was so angry. I’d never been glad that a victim had died before, but _fuck,_ Raf, all I could think about was how glad I was that her shit excuse for a mother would never hurt her again. All I wanted to do was scoop her up and carry her away to somewhere that no one could ever hurt her again and watching the ACS people take her away…” Sonny paused and squeezed Rafael’s hands. He could tell he was fighting off tears. “ACS didn’t do shit for her before. They let this happen to her. If they had been checking up on her, if they were doing their damn jobs, then we wouldn’t be here. Annabelle would be in a safe home with foster-parents, or adoptive parents, that love and take care of her. Not a junkie for a mother that invites gun toting maniacs over for lunch.”

From the tone of his voice, Rafael could tell Sonny was a volatile mix of angry, frustrated, and hurt. “You think I should charge ACS? Like we did with Jannette Grayson a few years back?”

“Yes!” Sonny was quiet for a second before he sighed and let his shoulders sag. “No. I don’t know. I can’t tell you how to do your job.”

“Never stopped you before,” Rafael teased him, earning him a gentle nudge in the stomach. He chuckled a bit and kissed his head once more. “I know this case has been difficult for you, and I can’t even imagine how hard it was to give Annabelle up to ACS. I know how protective you are.” Rafael took one of his hands away from Sonny’s for a second, tilting his chin up so he could look him in the eye. The angle was awkward and strained both their necks, but Sonny wasn’t complaining, and neither was he. “I promise you, if anything happens to that little girl while she’s with ACS or foster-care, I’ll take care of it. I’ll hit them with any and every lawsuit I possibly can.”

Sonny nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. “Thanks,” he whispered, letting Rafael kiss his nose before he situated himself so his head was lying on his side between Rafael’s legs, his head on his shoulder. Their couch had been too small for their previous position, which made this even worse and cramped. Rafael was uncomfortable as hell and on any other day he would’ve batted him away and told him to stop trying to turn him into a pancake, but he didn’t have the heart to move Sonny after the day he’d had.

“Raf?” Sonny muttered after a few minutes, both lost in the comfort—or discomfort in Rafael’s case—of being together.

Rafael hummed in response, one hand running through Sonny’s hair, the other holding Sonny’s. It wasn’t hard to pretend to be comfortable on the too small couch when Sonny was so close to him, when he could hear his gentle breathing and feel the weight of him in his arms. Sonny was safety and warmth and everything he’d never expected to want. 

But _God,_ he had no clue it was possible to even love someone this much.

Gentle words came from Sonny’s mouth, more like a whisper or a prayer than a statement they both knew was true but continued to say every day regardless. “I love you.”

A kiss, gentle as the statement following it. Rafael’s heart thumped in a way he’d learned was never going away, not in Sonny’s presence at least. “I love you, too.”

 

\--

 

The next few weeks were hectic. Sometimes it felt like cases were closed overnight, and then other times they stretched out for weeks, or even months. Between backups in the M.E.’s office and technical issues with TARU, it was just a waiting game to get the information they needed. Those waiting games always made Sonny antsy; a part of him hated working other cases when there was a case in the back of his mind, kneading and tearing at his conscious like a cat clawing at a scratching post. He knew he had no choice, though. Just because one case was occupying his thoughts and dreams, didn’t mean there weren’t other cases to help solve. He had to remind himself that there were other people, other victims, other _children,_ that needed help.

He visited Annabelle whenever he had a chance during the three weeks her mother’s case was open. He’d promised her he’d visit, and he didn’t intend on letting her down. Luckily for him, her foster families understood that he was the one who’d found her, and that he obviously wanted to check up on her. She seemed to be doing better, much to Sonny’s relief. The bruises on her body were healing, she was eating properly, and she was clean for what might have been the first time in her life.

She’d been to two foster homes already, though. The first, Sonny had talked to ACS about. It wasn’t that they were bad people, but they were overrun with kids. He didn’t think they would be able to take care of a little girl with the issues Annabelle had; she had nightmares, a hard time communicating, and she was afraid of everything that moved. That was just the outward issues; he didn’t like to think about the possible developmental issues she could’ve possible developed from her lack of upbringing. The only silver-lining to the whole situation was that she had no issues due to her mother having been on drugs or alcohol while she was pregnant. According to her pediatrician, the only good thing Rachel Baker did for her daughter was to quit smoking, drinking, and shooting up for at least the nine months she was pregnant.

Sonny hated that the bar for good parenting in Annabelle’s life had been set so low.

The second family seemed okay, only one other child at the home, which was their biological child, but that didn’t stop Sonny from worrying. He was the only one Annabelle seemed comfortable with, and even then, he had to be careful. Loud noises made her jump, anyone raising their voice just slightly caused her to cry, she flinched when people reached towards her, and she would hold on to Sonny and beg him to stay, sobbing the whole time, when he left.

He hated leaving. It always put a pit in his stomach, making him feel guilty for abandoning her, even if he knew he’d be back to see her within days. Annabelle didn’t seem to think as much. Every time he’d left, she looked as if she’d never see him again.

He was in the process of texting Rafael that he was going to visit Annabelle before heading home, when Olivia got his, Fin, and Amanda’s attention. With a sigh, he started to erase the text and change it to how they had some new case he’d probably have to work late on. She hadn’t said anything yet, but he’d been a detective long enough to know when something was up, and it wasn’t hard to assume that the thing that came up was yet another case to start.

“The DNA came back on the gun outside Rachel Baker’s apartment,” she said, a file in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

Sonny’s head shot up from the text he’d been attempting to write, completely forgetting about it once he heard the name out of Olivia’s mouth. This was what they’d all been waiting for. They all knew what Annabelle had been through and they were all acutely aware of what a terrible person Rachel Baker had been, but the not knowing was worse. Between backups in the M.E.’s office, issues with CODUS, and TARU having their own departmental issues, they were all haunted by the unknowns. Sonny could tell it was wearing on more than just him whenever the subject came up. Not knowing who Annabelle’s father was, not knowing who killed Rachel, not knowing _why_ she was killed… it was too much.

He just wanted answers. If not to bring comfort to himself, then for Annabelle. One day she’d grow up and have questions about her biological parents, her childhood, and Sonny hoped she’d have them… even if they weren’t very good ones.

“It’s about damn time,” Fin muttered, leaning back in his chair and looking over to Liv.

For a moment Sonny was hit with a wave of relief. They’d finally be able to put this all to bed and maybe—just maybe—Annabelle would have a chance at a normal life. That relief didn’t last long, though. The longer he looked at the lieutenant, standing near his desk with a somber expression and a tight grip on the file in her hand, the more he thought that there was something wrong.

Olivia sighed and shook her head a bit. “The fingerprints on the gun belongs to Carson Reynolds,” she started, her eyes following Amanda as she instinctively stood up and wrote the name on the whiteboard near them. She nodded in Olivia’s direction, prompting her to continue. “He was arrested for assault a few times, drug possession, and credit card theft. He did a three-year stint in Attica for stabbing someone in a bar fight and another year for credit fraud.”

“Sounds like a great guy,” Amanda muttered as she finished writing everything Olivia had said.

“That’s not all,” Olivia started as she handed a mugshot photo to Amanda, who stuck it to the board next to her scrawl on the board. Sonny didn’t know why they let her write everything, considering she was the only one who could read it half the time. “He was arrested for rape five years ago, but the charges were dropped… because the victim was found floating in the Hudson the day she was supposed to testify.”

“That can’t be a coincidence,” Sonny said, his brow furrowed. “Was he arrested?”

“No, they ruled it a suicide,” Olivia answered, but Sonny could tell she wasn’t convinced. None of them were. Nine times out of ten, if a witness dies the day they’re supposed to testify, then someone did something to them. It wasn’t a hard line to draw.

“I’m sure it was,” Sonny griped.

Olivia sighed and leaned against Fin’s desk. “Yeah, I didn’t believe it either.”

“So, what now Lieu? He got a last known address, or any associates we can track down and question? Or maybe—”

“There’s one more thing,” she said, looking directly at Sonny, as if the next thing pertained to him and only him. He raised his brow, as if to ask her what it was. Olivia’s expression was riddled with unease, a look that made Sonny squirm. “Carson Reynolds is Annabelle’s biological father.”

Sonny felt like someone punched him in the stomach. Breathing, suddenly, became a chore that he wasn’t sure if he could finish. He’d been so excited at the prospect of getting justice for Annabelle, maybe even finding her biological father one day and reuniting them. However, getting the DNA back didn’t help ease his mind in either of those cases. He couldn’t think about anything other than the fact that Annabelle’s abusive, junkie, mother had been killed by her father, a rapist and murderer who’d been in and out of jail.

How do you explain that to a child when they ask what happened to their biological parents? How does a child accept that their parents were such utter scumbags? How do you move on after that?

“Son of a bitch,” was all Sonny could mutter, scrubbing his hand over his face. He felt Olivia, Fin, and Amanda’s eyes on him as he stood up from his desk. “Okay, okay, we have to notify Annabelle’s foster-parents, put a protective detail on them, and then find anyone who ever worked with or knew Reynolds and make them tell us where he is. Maybe he’s got siblings, or parents, or someone who knows where he is. He could—”

“Carisi, slow down,” Olivia said, standing up and reaching out to him, putting her hand on his arm to get him to stop pacing.

“Do you really think putting a detail on the family is necessary?” Amanda asked, turning from the white board to look at Sonny. “I mean, he might not even care about her, and if he does, he hasn’t come for her yet, so why would he? Hell, he might not even know she exists, she said she didn’t have a father.”

“She was moved to a different home, maybe he doesn’t know where she is,” Sonny suggested. “Or maybe he’s just waiting until some of the heat from the case is gone, or—”

“I’ll notify the foster-parents,” Olivia cut him off. She moved away from Sonny and picked her coffee up from the Fin’s desk. “They should know, so should ACS. In the meantime, Fin, Rollins, try and track down any known associates. Family, other drug dealers, maybe pimps he ran with… you know the drill.”

“What about me, Lieu?” Sonny asked, following Olivia as she made her way to her office. She motioned for him to come in her office and close the door. He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not. Probably not.

“You’ve been really affected by this case,” she noted, as if it weren’t obvious. “Barba said—”

“I really wish you wouldn’t talk to my husband about how I’m doing,” Sonny snapped without meaning to. He hadn’t intended to be so harsh with her, and he immediately felt guilty for it, but it didn’t change the fact that he meant what he’d said.

Olivia didn’t seem to mind, though, and gave him a sympathetic smile in turn. “We don’t…” she paused for a moment then chuckled a little. “Okay, we _do_ , but it’s because he’s my best friend. We talk to each other.”

Sonny knew that was code for _“we tell each other almost everything, so yeah, idiot, you come up from time to time.”_

“But I can compartmentalize what my friend tells me about his husband and what a concerned spouse tells me about my detective.” She took her glasses off and looked across her desk at Sonny, feeling like he’d just been sent to the principal’s office for passing notes in class. “And he says you’re taking this personally.”

“How do I not?” Sonny asked, turning his head so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact with Olivia. He had enough trouble telling his husband how the whole deal made him feel, much less his boss.

“I get it. We all have a case that gnaws at us and keeps us awake at night, but not thinking with a clear head makes it that much harder for you to work that case.”

“I get that,” he said, because he did. He knew he was being emotional, he knew that his judgement was a bit clouded, and he knew that he couldn’t work this case as well as he normally would. He couldn’t help that every time he closed his eyes he saw bruises on a three-year old’s arm and a little hand in his, too small for its age. “I just… I want to help her. She deserves better than the life she was given. After everything she’s been through, she’s the sweetest little girl I’ve ever met.”

Sonny thought about the last time he visited her. He’d taken her to the park across the street from her foster family’s apartment, Bee in safely secured in the hand not holding Sonny’s. Once they got to the park, she’d tapped him on the leg, a sign which he’d learned meant she wanted him to bend down so she could talk to him.

_“What’s up?”_

_“I want to slide. Bee is scared.”_

Sonny had smiled and took her hand again, walking her to the small slide near the swing set. _“How about this, I’ll help you up, and when you go down, you can hold onto Bee real tight, so he doesn’t get scared.”_

She’d thought about it long and hard, her face crinkling up as if were the biggest decision she’d ever make in her life. She whispered something into Bee’s singular ear before she nodded. _“Bee says okay.”_

“I know you do,” Olivia responded, bringing him out of his own head. She was reaching over to her phone, assumedly to call ACS. “But if I sent you out there right now, you wouldn’t have had a clear head. Take some time to process all this first, okay?”

Sonny hated that she was right. It was almost worse than when Rafael was right. “Alright, alright,” he agreed, pushing himself up from his seat and leaving her office.

He sat back down at his desk with the intention of finishing some paperwork from a previous case, but his head was swamped with knowledge he, in a way, wished he didn’t know. As much as he hated the unknowns, the blissful ignorance of thinking there was hope out there for Annabelle was easier to live with.

_Turns out Rachel Baker’s killer is Annabelle’s bio-dad._

_Today sucks._

**_You’re kidding me?_ **

_I fucking wish_

**_Do you need anything?_ **

_A hug_

**_I’ll bring you one at lunch._ **

 

 

\--

 

 

As promised, Rafael brought Sonny a hug at lunch, along with a cup of coffee and a donut. He was thankful that he didn’t have anything going on the rest of the day that needed his immediate attention. If he had, he would’ve canceled it, he supposed.

Olivia was right. He was getting soft.

Rafael wrapped his arms around Sonny’s shoulders, placing the donut and coffee in front of him as he did. “Hey,” he said into Sonny’s hair, kissing the top of his head before pulling away.

“Come back,” Sonny hummed, his head dropping back so he could look at Rafael.

Rafael chuckled and brushed his fingers against Sonny’s back as he walked passed him. “Come eat lunch with me,” she said, already starting towards the empty interview room Sonny had talked to Annabelle in almost a month ago. They’d done this so many times since they’d disclosed their relationship that neither of them bothered to let Liv know.

Soon enough, Sonny was sat next to Rafael, their lunches in between them. Sonny, obviously, started with the donut.

“How are you doing?” Rafael asked after taking a sip from his own coffee and stealing one of Sonny’s chips.

“I don’t know,” he responded, shrugging a little. “I guess I’m just frustrated. Liv thinks I’m taking this case too personally… that it’s too hard on me. She’s right but… I don’t know how a person can remain unaffected after all of this.”

Rafael reached over to rub Sonny’s arm as he spoke. “I know it’s hard on you.”

Sonny shot him a glare, one that let Rafael know he was in trouble. “Yeah, I know you know. You’re the one who told her.”

He huffed. “She already knew it was hard on you, she’s not stupid. I didn’t tell her anything she didn’t know.”

His glare turned into a pout and he leaned his head back to rest against the wall. “That doesn’t mean I like you talking about how I’m feeling with my boss.”

“You think I like you telling Rollins everything about me?”

“Amanda isn’t your _boss.”_

“Yeah, but she’s my colleague, and I had to look her directly in the eyes ten minutes after you told her I cried during Moana.”

That made Sonny crack a smile, despite obviously trying not to. He pushed Rafael’s hand off his arm playfully and tossed his empty chip bag at him. Rafael attempted to catch the bag as it flung his way, but it hit him in the face anyways. Sonny laughed at that, making Rafael wish he’d missed catching it on purpose, not his lack of hand-eye coordination making his husband laugh.

“Besides, I’m not talking about how you’re feeling with your boss, I’m talking about how I’m worried about my husband with my best friend,” Rafael corrected. “Liv is able to differentiate between the two.”

Sonny sighed. “Yeah, she said the same thing, more or less.”

 “Great minds.” Rafael leaned over and put his arm around Sonny’s shoulders, pulling him into a little hug. “You know I’m just worried about you.”

“I know.” A sigh of defeat, and then Sonny moved his head away from the wall to look at Rafael again. “Thank you,” Sonny muttered, leaning his head against Rafael’s for a second. Sonny leaned in for a kiss, gentle and full of love, causing Rafael to smile against his lips. His hand moved to cup Sonny’s cheek out of instinct, moving closer to him in the process. It was nice, and gentle, and if they were home and not in the middle of a police station, could easily turn into something less innocent. The longer he kissed him the more he was able to forget the fact they were making out on in a room adjacent to his best friend’s office, connected by a wall with a one-way window.

That is, until he heard someone clearing their throat. Rafael didn’t even have to look up to see who it was. Regardless, he looked up and gave Olivia a sarcastic smile.

“Can I help you?” he asked as Sonny—clearly embarrassed—let his head drop to Rafael’s shoulder. He wasn’t pleased with the interruption, to say the least, and was about to attempt to shoo Liv out of the room that connected to her own office, until he looked at her for a half second longer and realized she looked upset. He stood up from where he sat with Sonny to walk over to Olivia, concern evident on his face. “What’s wrong, Liv?”

She leaned against the table and looked back and forth between him and Sonny. “I called ACS this morning, and they called Annabelle’s foster parents. They talked about it, and…” she looked directly at Sonny with concern on her face. Rafael wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know what was about to come out of her mouth. “And they don’t want to keep her anymore if it means squad cars outside their house, following them around, and the potential that they could put their son in danger.”

Rafael saw the anger in Sonny’s face before he could even completely process what Olivia had said. “They said _what?”_

“ACS tried to explain to them that it’s just a precaution and we don’t even know if Reynolds cares about Annabelle, and that the protection detail won’t be that much of a interruption to their lives, but—”

“ _But_ nothing! That little girl has been to two homes in three weeks, she’s young but she’s not stupid. If she keeps getting pulled from one home just as she gets settled she’s gonna start thinking no one wants her!” Sonny yelled, cutting Olivia off. He was standing now, his arms thrown in the air and his face turning red.

Rafael pushed himself off the table where he was leaning next to Olivia and went back to Sonny. He put his hand on Sonny’s arm, lowering it and taking his hand; normally, Rafael always knew what to say to Sonny to calm him down or to make him feel better, but he was out of his depth here. This wasn’t something they’d ever dealt with before. Sure, he’d helped Sonny calm down after cases—more than he’d liked to count—but this wasn’t just a run of the mill SVU case. It was becoming more and more clear to him just how deeply this affected Sonny, and just how much he cared for Annabelle.  

“They’ll find her a new home,” Olivia reassured, though Rafael wasn’t sure if it was directed towards Sonny or herself. It didn’t seem to work on either of them.

“How many _new homes?_ ” Sonny asked, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “How many unstable homes is she gonna be passed through until someone cares about her enough to take care of her?” he paused and looked at Rafael; he looked heartbroken. “And what if Reynolds does come for her? What if the unis miss him? What if the parents can’t protect her?”

Olivia’s lips were pressed into a tight line, her eyes filled with sorrow just as Sonny’s were. “Maybe they’ll keep her with ACS for a while?”

“Because they took such good care of her last time.”

“I wish there was something we could do, Sonny, but—”

Sonny looked over at Rafael as he spoke, cutting him off as his eyes went wide. Rafael could practically see the lightbulb pop up atop his head. “You’re a genius!” Sonny exclaimed, his eyes shining.

“Excuse me?” Rafael asked. He hoped that maybe if he looked at Sonny long enough, he might just figure out what the hell he was talking about.

He had nothing.

“Raf, you’re a genius. _We_ could take her.”

 _“What?”_ Olivia and Rafael exclaimed in unison. Sonny had lost it. Whatever he thought Rafael had suggested, or whatever the hell he thought he was on to… it just proved that he’d absolutely gone crazy. There was no way he’d just suggested what Rafael thought he’d suggested.

He needed to sit down.

Sonny gave Rafael a smile, wide and bright, bringing light to the depressing tone of the conversation. “We could take her in. Let her live with us.”

Rafael was at a loss for words. He looked back and forth from Olivia to Sonny, his mouth agape, nothing really coming out except for a confused, _“uh?”_

“I’m serious. We have a spare room, we both have vacation days we can take to get her settled in, she trusts me, and I can make sure nothing happens to her. She’ll be safe.” Sonny’s smile only widened as he spoke, both hands no wrapped around Rafael’s hand that had already been in his. He was almost jumping up and down on his toes as he spoke.

Rafael, all the while, was about to have a mental breakdown.

“Babe… we can’t… we can’t just become foster parents at a whim,” he said, looking over to Olivia with a face that said _help me._ “Right?”

Olivia, who still looked just as flabbergasted as Rafael felt, leaned back a bit where she sat. “Um… well, when I first got Noah, there wasn’t really _that_ much I had to do. It helped that I was a sergeant, and I’d been the one who got Noah out of…” she clenched her teeth and took a breath. “That _place._ Sure, there was a lot of paperwork, and home visits, but it was all fast-tracked considering—”

“See? Same situation,” Sonny tried, his face still bright and enthusiastic.  

“Oh my God,” Rafael muttered, moving his spare hand that wasn’t being tugged at up to his face. “I need to sit down.”

Olivia pushed herself off the table she sat at and looked over at Rafael as he sat down, pulling Sonny with him. She looked uncomfortable, like she’d just walked into a terribly personal conversation she didn’t want to be a part of. Then again, she sort of had.

“I’m going to…” she paused, looked at Sonny who was still nearly bouncing as he sat next to Rafael, and then over to Rafael, who’s head was in his spare hand. “To… go somewhere else. Anywhere else.”

“Traitor,” Rafael muttered as he heard her walk out the door.

“C’mon, Raf,” Sonny said, still clearly not realizing what a batshit crazy idea this was.

 _Oh god, I’ve married a crazy person,_ was the only thought swarming Rafael’s head for a solid few seconds before he could bring himself to respond.

“Sonny, we can’t just take a kid into our home because you’re emotionally attached to her,” he reasoned. He finally looked over to Sonny, who’s eyes were still wide and filled with joy.

“Why? We’ve been talking about having kids. Why not start with fostering Annabelle? She needs a home,” Sonny said, leaning over and taking Rafael’s other hand.

“Yes, yes, we talked about having kids. Abstractly. In a _maybe_ kind of way. In a _I’m too old to have kids, but I’ll think about it,_ kind of way.” Rafael was starting to think that he was the only one in their relationship with any semblance of pragmatism.

“First of all, you aren’t too old—”

“You only say I’m not old when you want something.”

“— _Second of all,”_ Sonny continued, completely ignoring Rafael’s point. “This is perfect. She needs a home, we have one. She’s already comfortable around me, and she’ll love you. Everyone loves you.”

“That’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told in your life, and I’ve seen you look Gina directly in the eye and tell her that she’s a good cook.”

No matter what he said, Sonny didn’t seem to be dissuaded from pushing the idea. “Baby, I’m serious. This could be really good for her. For _us._ ” He paused for a second, his smile losing a bit of its over-enthusiastic glee. “But… if after the Reynolds thing is put to rest, and he’s in jail and she’s safe, and you don’t think it’s right… then we can stop. If you don’t think it’s right, we can move on. No questions asked.”

Rafael took a deep breath and thought for a second. This was crazy. His husband was crazy. The worst part? _He_ was crazy for even considering it. All his reservations about having children had been born of fear he’d turn out like his father. He married Sonny knowing that one day they’d have to have a conversation about having kids, and maybe he’d be willing to have family with Sonny, maybe he’d be willing to be a father despite his immense fear of what he could turn into, but he wasn’t expecting to make the decision on a Wednesday afternoon after having made out in the room adjoining Olivia’s office.

He sighed and looked over to Sonny, smiling at him warmly. The longer he looked at Sonny the more he felt like the entire sun was radiating from him.

 _God,_ he loved him so much.

“Fuck it. Let’s do it.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finally got around to updating today despite having it written for like a week bc today was busy af. i'm trying to stick to updating every friday but once i actually finish the fic (i'm a little over halfway finished and i have everything planned out so i should be done soonish) i might change it to twice a week. this chapter was kind of a filler anyways except for one bit. anyways ya boy is tired as fuck so i'm gonna stop incoherently rambling and pass out the second i click submit. thanks for reading, giving kudos (we're at 69 kudos at the time i'm writing this so nice), and commenting! again, thanks to all the sweet comments and for no one pointing out what i'm sure is numerous typos and grammatical errors lmao
> 
> feel free to follow me on twitter and tumblr:  
> \- twitter: @rrafaelbarba  
> \- tumblr: www.rrafaelbarba.tumblr.com

“Home sweet home,” Sonny said as he opened the door to the apartment. In one arm was a small bag of clothes, toys, and other belongings, and in the other was Annabelle, her head resting against his shoulder as they walked through the door. He put the bag on the table next to the door and leaned down to let Annabelle stand up.

Once she reluctantly got down from his arms, she looked about curiously, her eyes scanning the table with her belongings, the rug beneath their feet, and down the hallway that led into the living room. “Your home?” she asked, looking up at Sonny.

“Yeah, yours too, now,” he answered, bringing his hand up slowly to remove her hoodie. He smoothed out her long red hair, standing on its ends, disturbed by the static from her winter jacket. “Is that okay with you?”

Her face scrunched up for a few seconds as if she were in deep contemplation before it lit up in excitement. Sonny hadn’t expected her to have a problem with staying with him, all things considered, but it was still a relief to see her take it well. “Bee says okay, too.”

“I’m glad,” Sonny said through a chuckle before standing up. “Can I introduce you to someone?”

She nodded and followed behind him as they walked into the living room. ACS had suggested that it might be easier for Sonny to bring Annabelle home and then introduce her to Rafael. Sonny had been surprised at how quick they were able to take Annabelle home, but considering he was a detective—the one who’d found her, no less—and Rafael was an ADA, they were able to fast track a few things, especially with Olivia there to vouch for them. They still had to have meetings and fill out a whole pile of paperwork, and of course there was the home visits, but considering the situation, it was a painless transfer. If they were to decide to keep Annabelle with them longer than until Reynolds was locked up, then there’d be more paperwork and visits to deal with, but for now, everything was set.

Sonny supposed with the squad cars sitting outside their apartment, ACS assumed that Annabelle was in the safest place she could possibly be. They were right, if his opinion was anything of significance. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let anything happen to her while she was staying with him.  

As they walked into the living room, Rafael was standing near the couch; Sonny could tell he’d been pacing up until he heard the door open. He looked more nervous than he had when he’d met Sonny’s parents, which was saying a lot. It would’ve been cute, if not for the fact the second Annabelle saw him, she hid behind Sonny’s leg. He wasn’t surprised, and by the look of him, neither was Rafael.

Sonny bent down to her level again and put his hand on her back. “Annabelle, this is my husband, Rafael. Can you say hi?”

With her face semi-hidden by Bee pressed against her face, she looked up to Rafael and whispered a soft, “Hi.”

Sonny looked over to Rafael and moved his head a bit in Annabelle’s direction to get him to walk over to them. Rafael, visibly nervous and probably suffering a stress migraine, walked over to Sonny and Annabelle. He didn’t get as close to her as Sonny was, but he did bend down so he was on the same level with her. “Hi Annabelle,” he greeted her, his voice as soft as hers. “Who’s this?” he asked, motioning to the bunny pressed to her face.

“Bee,” she responded before looking over to Sonny. “What’s a husband?”

Rafael laughed, a sound that never stopped warming Sonny’s heart. “It means we love each other.”

“Ooohhhh.” She paused for a moment before looking back to Sonny. “I’m hungry. Can I eat?”

“Yeah, me too. Can you play with Rafael for a bit while I get us something?” he asked, knowing she wouldn’t be too pleased with having to be separated from him and be around someone she didn’t yet trust. If this was going to work, though, she needed to learn to trust Rafael as much as she trusted Sonny.

And if it was any consolation to Annabelle, Rafael looked ten times more nervous than she did.

She leaned against Sonny’s side, looking over to Rafael as if she was studying him. “It’ll be okay,” Sonny promised, putting his hand against her back gently. “If you need me, I’ll be right in there.” He pointed towards the kitchen, watching as Annabelle’s eyes followed his hand in the direction of the kitchen. “And I’ll bring you and Bee some Cheetos when I’m done.”

“Okay,” she finally answered, moving away from Sonny. He stood up, Rafael following in suit. Rafael extended his hand to Annabelle, waiting patiently as she observed his hand for a few seconds before taking it with her own.

Before walking into the living room, Rafael leaned into Sonny’s side and whispered into his ear. “Are you sure about this? Do you want me to cook instead?”

“I’d rather not poison our foster-daughter the first night she’s with us, Raf,” Sonny teased. Four years of being together and an additional year of a weird half-dating, half- “just sleeping together” and Sonny still refused to stop making fun of Rafael’s poor cooking skills.

“I’m not _that_ bad,” he grumbled.

“You set an egg on fire once.”

“Fu—” He looked down at the three-year-old who’s hand he was holding, looking up at both inquisitively.

Sonny smirked at him, barely able to hold back a chuckle.

“Go make lunch,” Rafael grumbled, before turning around with Annabelle and making his way into the living room.

Sonny made himself busy with lunch, putting something together quick as to not be away from Annabelle for too long. She might have been okay with their arrangement as of that moment, but he didn’t want to cause her any unnecessary anxiety if need be. Luckily for him, grilled cheese and chips were a quick enough meal that he’d be out with his husband and foster-daughter within ten minutes.

_Husband and foster-daughter._

It was such a strange thing. He wasn’t the only one who thought so, either. Amanda had looked at him like he was crazy—which seemed to be the general theme—when he told her, her exact words being, _“Barba? A dad? You’re shitting me.”_ Fin just blinked in his direction a couple times, as if he was expecting to wake up from some weird fever dream. His sisters were caught between echoes of _“finally,”_ and _“you’re batshit crazy, adopting a kid from a case.”_

At least his parents and Rafael’s mother were unbridled with excitement.

 _“And here I thought I’d die without having grandchildren,_ ” Lucia joked, causing Rafael to mutter something under his breath in Spanish.

For a minute, before they had Annabelle in their home, Sonny thought maybe he was crazy. Rafael definitely thought he was when he’d suggested the idea. He’d always been told not to take his work home with him, and he’d always agreed. He understood that everyone needed to distance themselves from cases as to remain objective, to keep a cool head and not make needless mistakes. In theory, not taking your work home was a good idea, but some cases he couldn’t just check into his locker and leave at the station—sometimes they stayed with him, lived with him in his brain and heart and screamed at him to solve. To _help_.

In the case of Annabelle, he had quite literally taken his work home with him, he had the paperwork to prove it, too. He wasn’t even sure if he was ready to be a father. Olivia and Amanda’s reassurance of _you’ll never be one-hundred percent ready, but you’ll be okay_ helped in a way, but at the same time he was so overwhelmed with worry that he wouldn’t be good enough for Annabelle. It wasn’t like anything about the situation was planned.

He knew Rafael had his reservations, too. Rafael didn’t like talking about his father, and when he did it was usually with his face buried in the crook of Sonny’s neck, arms holding him tight and secure, but Sonny knew he was afraid of turning out like him. It was a crazy thought, considering under all his bluster and sarcasm, Rafael had a heart of gold. Sonny understood his hesitance and fear, though. All the same, the fact he was so worried about turning into someone he could never turn into proved to Sonny that Rafael was nothing like his father.

The sound of Rafael talking in a happy and light tone to Annabelle from a room away, playing with hand me down toys from Olivia and Amanda, was enough to put all of Sonny’s reservations and anxieties to rest for the moment, though. When it came down to it, he had no clue how this was going to turn out. He had no clue if he’d be a good father, and he had no clue how long Annabelle would be with them. He also supposed he very well might’ve been crazy for taking in a little girl he’d found in a closet of a dead woman. But as soon as he heard his husband playing with Annabelle, a softness to his voice that made Sonny smile involuntarily, he realized he was too happy to focus on anything negative.

 

\--

 

The precinct was a lot quieter without Sonny there. Amanda knew he’d be back soon, but it was still strange to not look across from her and see him there. He was still calling and texting her constantly, everything from asking her about the case to updating her on Annabelle. She’d been surprised, to say the least, when he’d told her that he and Barba were going to take Annabelle in. Not only was it spur of the moment, but she was also a little baffled over the idea of Barba with a kid of his own. He was good enough with other people’s kids—or at least, he’d gotten better—but honestly, she thought Sonny would just live vicariously through her and his sisters when it came to having kids.

Knowing that Annabelle had finally been put with people who’d take care of her for sure put everyone at ease, though, even if it meant leaving them short-staffed until Carisi got back from paternity leave. That ease only multiplied when they got the call that Reynolds had been arrested for using a stolen credit card. Amanda was starting to think he was as dumb as a doorknob if he was using a stolen card not even two weeks after they put out an APB on him.

Reynolds sat in an interrogation room, his hand balled into a fist, staring straight ahead as if he knew Amanda, Olivia, and Fin were sitting outside, waiting to go in and talk to him. Her stomach churned the more she looked at him. Despite the hate-filled gaze, he looked like a normal person. Brown hair, pale skin, and green eyes the same shade as Annabelle’s. One of the worst parts about this job was that people as sick as Carson Reynolds could look just like someone you’d run into in the grocery store and have no reservations about whatsoever.

Not only did his normality make Amanda feel like her skin was crawling, but so did the fact that this was personal for her now. Sonny was her best friend, and if this guy got away from them, then who knew what he’d do to Annabelle. She still wasn’t convinced he even knew of her, and if he did, if he even cared about her, but the thought still weighed heavy on her mind.

“Should I call Carisi?” Amanda questioned, pulling her gaze away from the man. His eyes were piercing holes into the window, making Amanda feel like he was a lot closer than he really was. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think that his gaze alone might be enough to break the glass.

“Hold off,” Olivia instructed. “He’ll just want to come down, and I don’t want to have to have the _you can’t be involved with this case_ conversation with him. Again.”

Amanda nodded in agreement, but she understood where Sonny was coming from. She knew Olivia did, too, considering she was also a parent, but she still had a job to do. If they wanted this case to close and for Reynolds to go to jail, they needed to make sure everything was one-hundred percent by the book, and that wouldn’t happen if Annabelle’s foster-father was involved in the case. Amanda could already imagine the field day a defense attorney would have with _that._  

“Make sure we get everything he says written down,” she said to Fin. “If he confesses, we need it airtight.”

Fin nodded, and Olivia motioned for Amanda to follow her into the interrogation room. The air in the room always felt ten degrees colder than the outside; it was like the depravity of the crimes confessed to in the room froze any warmth that may have once lived there. With Reynolds sitting at the table, shooting daggers at Amanda and Olivia with his eyes, the chill felt even worse. Maybe she should have brought her jacket with her. Or her gun.

“You can’t hold me on this,” Reynolds spat, his fists balled up and shaking on the table.

“We can’t?” Olivia asked, sitting on the corner of the desk. Amanda took the seat across from him, his glare fixed on her as she did. “You stole someone’s credit card. That’s a felony.”

“That’s not all you’ve done, though,” Amanda added, leaning back in her chair, partially for comfort and partially to distance herself from Reynolds.

“You don’t have anything on me,” he snarled, venom weaved in his voice. If Amanda had a dollar for every suspect who’d said that to her, she’d have enough to retire and move to the Bahamas with Jesse and Frannie.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. Your prints were found on the gun that shot Rachel Baker,” Amanda informed him, gauging his expression. She slid a picture of Rachel’s dead body across the table for Reynolds to examine. He looked down at the picture, snarling as he saw her.

All things considered, Amanda might’ve scowled at a picture or Rachel Baker, too. Sonny had told her how hard it was for Annabelle, simultaneously missing her mother in a way and yet being terrified of her. Amanda had no clue how he and Barba were supposed to help her through something like that.

Between hearing Rachel’s name and seeing her dead body, dirty bleached blonde hair laying in a mop underneath her head as she lay dead on the floor, the angry aura that surrounded him multiplied tenfold. The hatred that radiated off him proved in it of itself that he was guilty, but Amanda didn’t need Barba to tell her that a feeling on his aura wouldn’t hold up in court.

“I don’t have a gun,” Reynolds tried, though his eyes finally averted from the photo, settling on the wall behind Amanda instead. It was a piss poor attempt of a lie, but it wasn’t the worst she’d heard, sadly enough.

“Not anymore you don’t, it’s in an evidence lockup, your DNA all over it,” Olivia offered, her gaze fixed on the murderer in front of her.

“Why don’t you just make this easier on all of us and tell us what happened?” Amanda asked, playing into the good cop bit, cranking up her southern charm to an eleven. Fin had joked once that they should teach southern charm at the academy as an interrogation method, considering how many idiots had fallen for her fluttering eyelashes and the faux-southern kindness she did her best to radiate. “Maybe you didn’t mean to kill her, the gun just went off, you heard police and you got spooked and ran. That’s understandable.”

Silence, his eyes fixing back on Amanda. If looks could kill, Jesse would be an orphan.

“It’s not like anyone would miss her, I mean, you saw that apartment. You saw how disgusting it was, and to think there was a child in there—”

“She had _no business_ keeping _my_ daughter in that pigsty,” Reynolds yelled, cutting Amanda off midsentence. Amanda gave Olivia a sideways look, a silent acknowledgment that Reynolds did in fact know about Annabelle. “It was filthy. That was no place to keep my child.”

“You’re right,” Olivia agreed, standing up and putting her hands on the table, leaning in so she was closer to Reynolds but still not sitting next to Amanda. “I bet it made you furious, seeing how she was raising your daughter.”

“I didn’t even _know_ she was my daughter until that day!” He was still yelling, his face turning as red as Annabelle’s hair. “You think I would’ve let her stay there if I did? She was _my daughter,_ too. I deserved to see her, deserved to know about her. I would’ve been a damn good father but that _bitch_ never even bothered to tell me about her!”

Reynolds was shaking, the anger radiating off his body so extreme that Amanda felt as if she might need to take a step back. Rachel Baker might’ve been a terrible excuse of a mother who did nothing but abuse and ruin her daughter, but she did one thing right—she kept Annabelle away from Reynolds.

“I bet you would’ve been,” she lied. She knew it was a part of the job, but sympathizing with murderers, rapists, and the like always made her want to crawl out of her own skin. It left her with a sick feeling that etched itself into her brain, not leaving her until she could get as far away from the job as possible. “You killed Rachel to save Annabelle, right? You knew ACS wasn’t helping her, you knew she was an addict, knew she was abusing her… you were just trying to save her.”

“That bitch only cared about getting high!” Reynolds screamed, his hand moving to clasp onto the side of the table, his knuckles turning white. “She had the audacity to buy heroin from me when she had _my child._ ”

Another sideways glance shared between the two. They had him on drug dealing now for sure, but a confession for Rachel’s murder would help haul his ass back to Rikers for the rest of his natural life that much quicker. Provoking Reynolds’ rage seemed to be her best bet of getting him to confess; he seemed to be held tight in the grasp of his own rage.

“Why do you think she didn’t tell you about Annabelle?” Amanda asked, using her sweetest voice, all southern charm and gentleness. She cocked her head to the side, trying to remain casual and understanding, though really, all she wanted to do was reach across the table and punch him in the face.

“She wanted my daughter all to herself. The only reason I ever found out about her was because she came in the room when I came to drop off the fucking drugs.”

“How’d you know she was your daughter?” Olivia asked, her voice steady. It took DNA testing for them to figure out what Reynolds seemed to have figured out in a second. Amanda assumed it was just his narcissism and entitlement that made him think Annabelle was his; he seemed to be the kind of guy that thought everything belonged to him.

“The second I saw her I _knew_ she was mine. She looks just like my sister did when she was that age,” Reynolds responded, the anger in his voice not going away. Despite talking about his daughter, there was no love in Reynolds’ voice. His tone conveyed more a person livid something was stolen from them, like a wallet or a laptop, not a father wanting to get to know his daughter.

“So, what happened, Carson?” Amanda asked, her voice still feigning sweetness. “Whatever happened in there, you did it for you daughter. You saved her, right?”

“You’re damn right I did! The bitch yelled at her to go to her room, and when I tried to follow her, she grabbed me and tried to pull me away. We yelled at each other, she admitted that she was my daughter, so I shot her. The bitch kept me from my daughter, she deserved to fucking die! She deserved worth than death, she deserved—”

“That’s all we needed to hear,” Olivia said, pushing back from the table. Amanda took that as her signal to stand up as well. There was no point in them staying in the box with him, pretending to sympathize with him after he’d given them what they wanted.

“So, you’ll let me out now? I gotta get my daughter,” Reynolds said, clearly deluded into thinking anyone would ever let him anywhere near Annabelle ever again.

Amanda huffed out a laugh and shook her head. “No way in hell, pal. You’re up the creek without paddle. See, you sold Rachel heroin, and then killed her, those are both felonies. Not to mention endangering the welfare of a minor and the credit fraud.”

“I’d _never_ endanger my daughter!” Reynolds yelled, slamming his hands down on the desk. “I killed Rachel to save her! I would’ve gotten her out of that hell hole if not for you fuckers coming in and chasing me off! Whoever the fuck has her now needs to bring her back to me, she’s _mine.”_

The more Reynolds talked about Annabelle like she was his property, the sicker and angrier Amanda felt. She could already imagine the anger in Sonny’s face, and he hadn’t even heard the confession yet. He and Barba had only had Annabelle for two weeks, but they’d been better parents in that short time than Reynolds or Rachel could’ve ever mustered in their cumulative lives.

“That’s the thing, Reynolds, she isn’t,” Amanda said, making a show of slamming her own hands in front of him. “She’s with people who actually want to take care of her, not just feel entitled to her because of blood shared like you.”

“Amanda…”

She ignored Olivia’s quiet attempt to calm her down, opting to continue in on Reynolds instead. “If Annabelle’s lucky, she’ll never remember you or Rachel. She’ll grow up with fathers who love her, and you’ll never see her again. How does that make you feel, huh? Knowing someone else is going to be raising the kid you clearly want so bad, how does—”

Before she could finish, Reynolds jolted up from his seat and rushed her. It happened in a flash; she felt her head hit the window behind her, vision going dark for a second before seeing Reynolds’ eyes boring into hers again. If they were terrifying from behind a glass, they were a visage of nightmares only inches away from hers. She could smell his breath on her face, hot and rank, making her entire body shake in a mix of pain and disgust.

His arm was pressed up against her neck, making it near impossible for her to breathe. It took both Fin—who at some point must’ve rushed into the room without Amanda’s knowledge—and Olivia to pull Reynolds off her. Fin was able to cuff him and escort him rather forcefully out of the room, leaving Amanda to double over and hold the back of her head as she tried to catch her breath.

Olivia was at her side in less than a second, helping her to the chair she was sitting in previously. “Are you alright?” she inquired, her hand going to the back of Amanda’s head. She watched as Olivia pulled her hand away, revealing blood against her fingertips. “You’re bleeding.”

“Thanks… I-I, uh, I noticed,” she managed to choke out, her sarcastic tone undermined by her inability to breathe or speak correctly.

Olivia huffed a little laughter and put her hand on Amanda’s arm, steading her as she tried to get her breath back. “I should’ve stopped you sooner.”

“I should’ve stopped myself,” Amanda said after a few seconds, finally able to talk without being at a lost for breath. “I just… the more I heard him talk about Annabelle like that… he never once called her by her name. He was _his_ daughter. He’d known about her for less than a few minutes before he decided to gun down her mother. I mean, I know Rachel was a monster but… it’s still disturbing.”

Olivia rubbed her hand up and down her arm, squeezing gently and looking her in the eye. Catching Olivia’s gaze helped calm Amanda down, if only for the moment. Despite Olivia’s calming presence, she knew the next time she saw Reynolds she’d want to tear his throat out; no number of calming looks would be able to stop that.

“If you hadn’t have gone off on him, I might have,” Olivia admitted, giving her a comforting smile. She stood up and extended her hand to Amanda after a few seconds of letting Amanda steady herself. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

“No, Liv, I’m fine, I just—”

“Do you need me to point out the obvious again?”  

Amanda sighed and took Olivia’s outstretched hand, allowing her to guide her to the door. She let her fingers stay twined with Olivia’s, partially because she was dizzy and partially because…

Well, it was Olivia.

“Fine, fine,” she gave in once they were at the door to the interrogation room, though she was pretty sure it was already a done deal. She expected Olivia to call for Fin to take her to the hospital, but she didn’t seem to intend on letting go of Amanda’s hand. To anyone around them, it wouldn’t have been suspicious. Between the already present red mark on Amanda’s neck and the blood staining her blonde hair, it was easy enough for everyone to assume the lieutenant was just steadying Amanda long enough to get her medical attention.

Which was most of the reason Amanda grasped onto Olivia’s hand so hard. Most of it.

There was so much about this situation Sonny was going to lose his shit over.

 

\--

 

It’d been two months since they started fostering Annabelle, though it somehow felt longer. If Rafael had time, he could’ve sat down and relayed all the impossibilities of parenthood, how jumping from only having second-hand childcare experience to having a three-year-old within a week was mindboggling, how difficult it was to take care of a child that’d been through what Annabelle had been through, etc. The thing was, Rafael didn’t have time for _anything_ anymore, much less thinking about how strange the last two months had been.

It wasn’t a bad strange, though. It was difficult, that he knew without having to spend too much time mulling it over, but it wasn’t bad… and it _definitely_ wasn’t something he regretted. As the days went by, the more he realized that this—being a father, even a temporary one—was something he enjoyed… something he wouldn’t mind doing on a more than temporary basis. He’d been afraid that maybe he’d hate it and have to break Sonny’s heart by telling him that raising a child wasn’t something he could do. Even more so, he was afraid that Annabelle would hate _him._ Her being attached to Sonny made sense, everyone from the first doctor that examined Annabelle to her current therapist had told them that the reason she had trusted him so much was the fact that he’d been the one to find her, and likely the first one to ever even consider being kind to her.   

He hadn’t hated it, though. Even better, Annabelle didn’t hate _him._ Obviously, it had been a process of her warming up to him, but eventually, she was just as comfortable around him as she’d been around Sonny. Rafael didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget the time she voluntarily chose to crawl into his lap instead of Sonny’s, Bee in her hand and a book in the other.

Still, there were no _How to Raise a Traumatized Three-Year-Old Your Husband Found in a Closet of a Murder Victim_ books on Amazon, last time he checked. Annabelle had tantrums like any other three-year-old, but they were more aggressive and bordering on terrifying. Her therapist had diagnosed her with PTSD within a session of seeing her, which wasn’t something either of them were surprised by, but it made things more difficult. Every child had trouble sleeping, had nightmares, threw tantrums, were convinced monsters were living in their closet, and got separation anxiety, but with Annabelle it was all magnified.

Rafael knew all he could do was be there and help her through it, listen to her therapist and make sure they did everything they could to help her get past it, but that didn’t make any of it easier.

ACS had checked in with them multiple times, both house visits and phone calls. Each time, they’d asked if they were sure that this was something they were sure they wanted to do, and each time, without hesitation, they’d said _yes._ Rafael couldn’t think of a single other thing in his life that he wanted more than keeping Annabelle with him.

Going back to work was the last thing Rafael wanted to do, but he knew that he’d have to at some point. As Annabelle sat on his lap, her head pressed against his chest as she watched _The Little Mermaid_ , he couldn’t help but let his mind wrack and think of any possible way he could stay home with her longer. Possibly fifteen years longer.

He knew it was impossible, though. He’d already agreed to go back to work at the end of the month, leaving Sonny to stay home with her for another few weeks so they could ease her into staying with a nanny, which would be a terrifying idea for her, he knew, but there was no other choice. At some point, they’d both have to work, and their schedule was less than ideal, at times. They were lucky enough to find a good Nanny, through weeks of searching, which was great.

Sonny had gone out for the first time in weeks without Rafael and Annabelle, at Rafael’s insistence that _everything would be fine._ Sonny hadn’t even gone to mass for the last two months, which was sacrilegious in Sonny’s mind. Rafael, who’d refused to step foot in a church since his twenties, was perfectly fine with staying home with Annabelle for the day. There’d been a small conversation about bringing Annabelle with him, but neither of them wanted to have the _how are we going to raise her when it comes to religion_ conversation yet. It was easier to agree that she wouldn’t do well in a church service when she could barely sit still unless she was watching a movie or eating.

Along with not going to mass as often as normal, Sonny hadn’t seen his family altogether for the extent that they’d had Annabelle. She got anxious around large groups of people, especially ones she didn’t know well, so having the entire Carisi clan around her was a definite no-go. Sonny’s family understood, obviously, but Rafael was sure they missed Sonny, considering he used to see them at least once a week if he could.

Between mass and Sonny going to his parents’ house on Staten Island for one of their impromptu family reunions, Annabelle and Rafael had been home alone together for most of the day. It was around four, and Rafael knew that Sonny wouldn’t be home for some time. He thought he’d be more nervous about being home alone with Annabelle, but the day had gone smoothly.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t utterly exhausted, maybe even more so than Annabelle, who was almost asleep as she half-watched her movie. Taking care of a three-year-old, even on days where she wasn’t having issues, was beyond tiresome; he didn’t know how single parents did it.

As the movie neared its end, Rafael nudged Annabelle ever so slightly to see if she was still awake. She looked up to him, her big green eyes fluttering sleepily. Rafael had noticed within the last few weeks that as she got out in the sun more, the more her freckles darkened and multiplied across her pale skin. He was sure every parent thought it at some point, but he was pretty sure his daughter was the cutest thing in the entire world.

“Are you hungry?”

Annabelle shook her head and made a little noise in response to indicate she wasn’t before curling back into his lap. A yawn took over her body and she reached one of her little hands up to rub at her eyes. Rafael smiled at the sight; he’d never quite been able to get over how adorable she was when she was about to take a nap, too tired to fight sleep anymore. Luckily for both, her nightmares usually left her alone while she napped; they only seemed to plague her when she was sleeping for the night. At first, Sonny had ended up falling asleep in Annabelle’s room while she struggled with nightmares, just so she wouldn’t wake up alone and screaming. Now, she usually ended up padding into their room and attempting to climb up into their bed with them.

“Sleepy?”

“Mhm,” she answered, pulling Bee closer to her chest.

He moved a stray bit of hair that had fallen from her braid from her face before continuing to question her further. “Do you wanna sleep in your room?”

“Nope.” Her voice was sleepy and lilting, fitting well with her tiny body curled in his lap. “Can I sleep here?”

“On my lap?”

She nodded, looking back up at him with puppy dog eyes that Rafael was pretty sure she learned from Sonny. He had the distinct feeling that one day he’d be outnumbered by those two, if he wasn’t already.

He knew he should say no, considering her therapist had gone into a long, drawn out explanation on why it was better for her to sleep alone in her bed, and how it would help with her separation anxiety, the last time they’d taken Annabelle to see her. It was easier said than done, though. He found it impossible to take her back to her bedroom when she woke them up, crying and just wanting to be safe in the comfort of her parents. The same went for naps. He knew that it was better for her to nap in her bed, or at least alone on the couch, but when she looked up at him with her big eyes, he had a hard time saying no.

That being said, he knew that eventually they’d have to start making sure she slept alone in her bed.

“C’mon, Sweetie, let’s—”

“Please, Daddy?”

 Rafael sat in stunned silence for a few moments, staring down at a barely awake Annabelle. She’d never called him daddy before, usually just walked up to him and pulling at his pant leg or getting Sonny to get his attention. She’d started calling Sonny such a few weeks ago, and it wasn’t that Rafael was jealous—it would’ve been stupid for him to be, she was a three-year-old who’d been put into a new home, just figuring out what her new life was like—but he had to admit that he wondered if she’d ever call him the same.

Every time Annabelle did something for the first time, it made his heart beat a bit faster. He honestly had no clue it was possible to love someone as much as he loved her. When he and Sonny got married, he’d had a similar feeling of thinking he’d never love anyone quite as much as he did his husband, but after they’d started fostering Annabelle he realized quickly that there was an entirely other kind of unconditional love that he was unaware existed.

He smiled gently and leaned down to press a kiss atop her head, letting her cuddle back into his arms. “Okay,” he whispered, watching as she made herself comfortable again.

As she fell asleep, he found himself thinking about the day they’d decided to foster her. Two months back, he’d been convinced Sonny was the crazy one for wanting this, but now, as he watched as his daughter finally lulled into sleep, be realized he’d been the crazy one. If he could go back in time, he’d have yelled at his past self for being so hesitant. Annabelle was by far the best thing that had ever happened in his life. Two months ago, he couldn’t imagine himself with a daughter, now he couldn’t imagine himself _without_ her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise 1 am chapter considering last weeks was shorter and kind of a filler to get us to this chapter and the one next. after this we only have two more chapters until we're halfway done! or chronologically, at least, idk how many chapters the last half will be. i considered making it a second fic and just putting it in as a work but frankly that's too much work yall just get it all lumped together. 
> 
> anyways, enjoy! i'll most likely update again friday so. nice two chapters this week. enjoy, leave a comment, kudos, etc.! 
> 
> feel free to follow me on tumbr/twitter!  
> \- tumblr: https://rrafaelbarba.tumblr.com/  
> \- twitter: @rrafaelbarba

It was strange how easy it was to slip into a routine with Annabelle in his life. It had been an adjustment at first, but it was an adjustment Rafael had been willing to make. He’d never expected to find himself here—especially not at his age—but he was, and he wouldn’t have changed it for the world. Something about his life now felt so natural, despite how difficult it was. Not only was Annabelle a toddler, she was a toddler who had gone through hell for the first three years of her life. Even after five months of being in a stable home, she still had nightmares, scared easily, refused to go anywhere without being attached to Sonny—or eventually Rafael’s—side, and carried Bee around like he was her lifeline. Rafael couldn’t remember a single night in the last few months that he slept for longer than two hours without either being awoken by the sounds of Annabelle having a nightmare or to little hands attempting to crawl up in bed with them.

It was exhausting, and he still wasn’t sure he was fully equipped to deal with it. If it wasn’t Annabelle herself waking him up at two in the morning, it was self-doubt and anxiety that he wouldn’t be a good enough father for her keeping him from getting any sleep. He knew being a parent would be hard, but he had no clue just _how_ hard it would be until he’d been thrusted into it.

But then there were times where Annabelle climbed up into his lap and put her head down on his chest, closing her eyes and choosing him as her nap spot of the day. Times where she was eating dinner and attempting to feed Bee every other bite, having quiet conversations with the bunny always at her side, telling him he needed to eat just like her. Times where she smiled and giggled like a little girl that had never seen and experienced the trauma she had. The first time she called him daddy.

It made all the self-doubt and fear dissipate into nothing but static in the back of his brain.

He thought at first that not being able to try this case would weigh on him, but the further he got down the line, he started to care less and less about _who_ tried the case, as long as they won. If some particularly inept judge had, by some incredible lapse of judgement, allowed him to try the case, he was sure he’d botch it. There was no way in hell that he’d be able to look Carson Reynolds in the eyes without having the overwhelming urge to strangle him. Reynolds might not have been the one who abused Annabelle firsthand, but he supplied the heroin to her mother. He was the one that thought it a good idea to shoot someone when Annabelle was only two rooms away. He was the one that talked about Annabelle like she was his property, not her own growing and blossoming individual.

Rafael didn’t personally believe in the death penalty, but if New York decided to change its death penalty policy overnight, and that was the sentence Reynolds received, he wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.

He and Sonny had been back to work for a couple of weeks now. The first time he had to leave Annabelle with someone other than his mother or Sonny’s parents was the hardest moment of his life. He’d always thought parents were overreacting when they talked about how hard it was for them to leave their kids with someone else, even trained childcare professionals. When Liv had told him about how she had to stop in the bathroom to get all her tears out before heading into work the first time she left Noah at preschool, he’d thought she was just being dramatic.

And then he dropped Annabelle off at preschool, handing her over to the carefully vetted preschool teacher, and watched as his daughter cried and held her arms out for him to pick her up again. He’d felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest as he forced himself to give her one last kiss to the top of her head and walk out of the school. He no longer found Olivia’s story dramatic, in fact, he felt the need to call her and ask her how the hell she did it the second he got back to his car. Even with Olivia’s reassurance that everything would be fine, that what he was feeling was normal for every parent, he still felt like the world was crashing down around him.

On a rare Friday afternoon that he had no meetings, no pressing cases he had to prepare for trial, nothing that would keep him at the office past three o’clock, he picked Annabelle up from preschool early. She’d been delighted to see him, her little green eyes flashing with joy as she ran into her father’s arms the second she saw him.

He took her to the precinct to surprise Sonny, knowing that he’d do well seeing Annabelle midday to tide him over until he could finally get home. Rafael thought that this all might’ve been harder on Sonny than him. Though his job was demanding, and he definitely had nights where he didn’t get home until some ungodly hour, he more or less worked consistent hours. Sonny, on the other hand, had to work the occasional 16-hour shift, sleep at the precinct, or come home so exhausted he could barely lift Annabelle’s small body to hug her.

 Walking into the precinct with Annabelle in his arms caused the entire room to light up. Everyone who saw her was instantly enamored with her, especially his friends and coworkers. Between her naturally sweet attitude, the freckles that dusted her face, and the knowledge of what she’d been through and that she’d found herself a good home, everyone was always delighted to be in her presence.

The second Annabelle saw Sonny, Rafael felt her squirm in his arms, yelling an excited, “ _Daddy!”_ as she saw him.

“Go get him,” he said with a smile, bending over to let her down, allowing her to run to him and throw her arms in the air for him to pick her up. Seeing the way Sonny lit up when he saw his— _their—_ daughter never ceased to warm his heart. Watching as Sonny picked her up and spun her around, hearing her joyful laughter, it all made Rafael feel as if he were living on cloud nine.

Rafael couldn’t pull his eyes off Sonny throwing Annabelle up and down in the air, but he still vaguely noticed Olivia’s presence next to him not long after he’d arrived. He didn’t bother to put on a professional mask and pretend as if he weren’t completely and totally in love with his husband and daughter.

“She’s come a long way,” Olivia noted as she sidled up to Rafael. “She looks happy.”

Rafael nodded, aware his puppy eyes were likely on par with Sonny and Annabelle’s. “Yeah, she is. We all are.”

He didn’t have to look at her to know she was smiling. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy.”

“It’s because I’ve never been this happy before,” he admitted. He finally tore his eyes away from his husband and daughter to look at Olivia, her face lit up with joy. “I didn’t think I could get any happier than I was when it was just me and Sonny. You know I never thought that I’d get married, and I never thought I’d love anyone as much as I love him, but…” he paused for a moment and looked back to Sonny and Annabelle. Rollins was tickling her from where she sat in Sonny’s arms, squirming and giggling, her smile so bright it could light up all New York. “I didn’t think it was possible to love anything—any _one—_ more than him, but I was wrong.”

Olivia’s hand landed gently on his shoulder, a touch which he leaned into. He wasn’t even going to bother contesting the fact that he was getting undeniably soft as he got older.

“I’m guessing you two are going to start adoption papers, then,” she said, reading him like a book she’d written herself.

He nodded. “Yeah, we already started them. Technically, we can’t adopt her until the year is up, but with the Reynolds trial in a week, and the fact that we’ve been her only stable home in her entire life, we have no doubts it’ll go through without a hitch.”

The optimism and gentleness of his voice was clearly not lost on Olivia. “I’m happy for you, Rafa,” she said, her hand moving to find his own. She gave it a tight squeeze and twined their fingers together, neither bothering to let go of each other’s grasp. If you’d told him eight years ago that he’d be standing in the middle of the SVU precinct, holding Olivia Benson’s hand while watching his husband and daughter play peak-a-boo with Fin, he’d have called you delusional.

“If you guys need absolutely anything, just let me know. Having someone else who’s gone through the adoption process might help speed things along a bit,” Olivia offered, her hand warm and comforting in his own.

He nodded and leaned into her a bit, knocking their shoulders against each other. “I know, Liv, thank you.”

He was quiet for a second before deciding it a good time to bear his heart; something about watching Annabelle and Sonny together made him sentimental and more open with his emotions than normal. Besides, if he was going to bear his heart to someone, it was going to be Olivia.

“You know, I was afraid having a kid would somehow magically turn me into my father,” he stated, turning back to watch Sonny and Annabelle. A few unis had gathered around to say hi to her. Rafael could tell that Annabelle was nervous, but it was nothing compared to how she’d have reacted months ago. Now, she just leaned into Sonny’s knees, looking up at them and giving them a small wave.

“I thought that by having a daughter it would bring out something…” he paused and closed his eyes for a second, trying his hardest to block out the image of his father’s fists connecting with his face at no older than ten years old. “I don’t know. Dark in me.”

“Rafa…”

“But it didn’t,” he said, reassuring himself more than Olivia. “I was stupid to think it would, if I hadn’t turned into him by now then I never will. If anything, Annabelle’s made me better. Kinder.” She looked over from where she was cuddled up Sonny’s lap and waved over at him and Olivia. He smiled and waved back at her, Olivia doing the same. “I’m a better husband, friend, and person because of her.” He felt himself softening to the world around him by the second as he spoke, not even having to look at Olivia to know she was giving him a _I told you that you were getting soft_ look. “Don’t even say it.”

She chuckled and knocked his shoulder with her own again. “That’s not such a bad thing. There’s something about kids that make us better, more loving, more compassionate… just better people altogether,” she said, speaking from experience. Rafael didn’t let himself think about how having a child didn’t turn Rachel Baker into a better person. He didn’t know the circumstances of Annabelle’s birth, or if maybe Rachel had attempted to be a good mother for a short time, but when it came down to it, having a daughter didn’t change her. It didn’t make her want to become better, more compassionate, or loving. If anything, it appeared that it made her worse.

“But I must admit, I never expected this in your life.”

“So you said at my wedding reception,” he noted, thinking back to Olivia’s best woman speech. It was nothing compared to Rollins’ semi-drunk _if you hurt him we will all collaboratively kill you, hide the body, and show up to work the next day without batting an eyelash_ speech, but it was none the less touching.

“Even then, I didn’t expect you to ever become a father,” she confessed.

He shrugged, his spare hand moving to rub the back of his neck. “I had a feeling I would. One day. I knew how much Sonny wanted a kid and that he’d probably resent me for the rest of our lives if I was the reason he entered his forties childless, but I didn’t expect to love it so much.” He stopped for a second and looked over to Olivia, giving her a half-smile. “I suppose that sounds shitty.”

“You agreeing to have kids despite being afraid of being a father, or turning into your father, because you love your husband so much?” Liv chuckled a little. “I’ll inform Carisi he’s got grounds for divorce.”

Rafael rolled his eyes and attempted to tug his hand away from her, but she just laughed and grabbed his hand back. “I’m serious, you don’t give yourself enough credit,” she assured him. “I know throughout your whole relationship with Carisi you’ve been hesitant and scared because of how real it is,” she said, her voice lower now, as if she were discussing some major secret. He supposed pretending to be cold-hearted and constantly stuck in an ever-professional demeanor had lost some of its effect once everyone had seen him kiss his husband goodbye before heading to court or lighting up like a Christmas tree at the mere sight of his daughter.

“But that just makes you a better person. It’s plain as day that you’re madly in love with him, and that you’d give the world to Annabelle.”

Rafael sighed and gave Liv a look of defeat. “You really have my number, don’t you?”

She laughed and gave his hand yet another squeeze. “That’s what happens when you’re as close as we are.”

He rolled his eyes and let her swing their hands between them a bit. He swore, if not for the fact he was gay, and Olivia had a hopeless “secret” crush on Rollins, they’d already be an old married couple, planning their retirement to Florida.  

 

\--

 

As the trial got closer, it was easier to tell that everyone was on edge. Rafael had to be pulled away from the case by Liv more than once, for complaints from Stone that he was backseat prosecuting.

 _“You need to be at home, take care of your daughter, make sure Carisi is set to testify,”_ Olivia had said after physically pulling Rafael away from Stone. He knew she was right, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Sitting outside the courtroom, Sonny by his side and Rollins standing in front of them, he didn’t much feel like an ADA as he did any other father, anxiously awaiting the future of the life of his daughter. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if Reynolds wasn’t found guilty. He’d heard second-hand from Rollins how aggressive he’d been, how he’d refused to even call Annabelle by her name, simply referring to her like she belonged to him. He’d seen the evidence pictures and medical reports of the red marks left on Rollins’ throat, the blood on her head, and the resulting concussion that she sustained. If he was stupid enough to assault a detective in front of a Lieutenant as he was being questioned for murder, he didn’t want to know what he’d do to Annabelle.

After hearing about how he’d supposedly got a witness killed before she was supposed to testify, he’d been nothing but a ball of nerves. He wasn’t sure if it was the squad car that sat outside their apartment or another reason that stopped Reynolds from trying anything on him or Sonny, but he wasn’t going to think about it longer than he had to. The thought of losing Sonny was too much for him to think about on top of the trial.

“You guys ready?” Stone asked, approaching the three of them. Throughout the trial prep, he and Stone often butted heads. Between Rafael’s backseat prosecuting and Stone’s constant reminders that he’d been recused from the case for a reason, it was a wonder he’d ever managed to prepare a case, but Rafael knew he was a good enough man. He knew that he’d do what he could to make sure Reynolds went away for as long as possible.

“As we’ll ever be,” Sonny responded, his hand tightening in Rafael’s grasp.

“Your testimony is first,” Stone reminded Sonny, giving him a short nod. “Then you, Rollins. It should be cut and dry with all the evidence we have on him, but I don’t need to remind you what’s at stake here. Braun might be shady, but he’s not an idiot.”

Rafael bit his lip at the thought of the defense attorney. He’d gotten a home visit from Rita not long after Reynolds had started to try and obtain counsel. It was strange to see her in the doorway of his home, looking out of place in her suit skirt and blazer while Rafael was wearing Sonny’s old Fordham shirt, sweatpants, and sporting a tiara that Annabelle had placed on his head. Their apartment, which was usually fairly clean, looked like a Toys-R-Us had exploded in it, with kids’ toys littering the living room, and gifts from the surprise _“_ Baby _”_ Shower Sonny’s sisters had thrown them.

He supposed that they were spoiling Annabelle a bit, but it was hard not to. She’d gone through the first three years of her life with a ratty stuffed bunny, a broken xylophone, and a discarded barbie being her only toys, so Rafael didn’t seem to find an issue in spoiling her a bit.

 _“Nice hat,”_ she’d said, smirking in his direction. He’d raised his brow before remembering what was sitting atop his head. He didn’t bother to take it off.

“ _There a reason you’ve stopped by, Counselor?”_

What proceeded was a conversation about how Reynolds had tried to obtain her as a defense attorney, an offer which she swiftly turned down. _“I’ve defended some pretty awful people,”_ that was an understatement, _“but even_ I _know where to draw the line,”_ she’d said, a small smile on her lips as she spotted Annabelle from across the room, having a tea party with Bee and a couple other stuffed animals.

Rafael never thought the day would come where he’d be thankful for Rita or feel the urge to hug her. He didn’t hug her, but he did thank her.    

“Why didn’t he just take a plea?” Rollins asked, frustration clear in her voice.

“He wants Annabelle back,” Rafael answered, his voice hoarse and tight, getting caught in his throat as he tried to speak. “If he’s found innocent, he’ll be able to file for custody.”

“Don’t think like that,” Sonny said, turning to face Rafael. He brought his hand up to cup Rafael’s cheek, staring at him like they were the only people in the courthouse. “You know how much evidence we have on him, there’s no way a jury will find him innocent. If nothing else, there’s no denying the assault on a police officer. Rollins still has the stitches to prove it.”

Rafael sighed and nodded. He knew his anxiety and fear of losing his daughter to a murderer and a rapist was just getting the best of him, but that didn’t change the fact he couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if Annabelle ended up in the hands of that _monster._ He pressed his forehead against Sonny’s for a second before allowing Sonny to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

It was now or never.

 

\--

 

“What did you see upon entering Rachel Baker’s apartment, Detective Carisi?”

“Rachel Baker, dead on the floor, gunshot wound to the chest. Lieutenant Benson instructed me to check on her and call for an ambulance if need be, before going in pursuit of Reynolds with Detective Rollins and Sergeant Tutuola.”

“Objection!” Braun called out. “Detective Carisi had no sight of the suspect as he entered the apartment.”

“Sustained, jury will disregard, please keep your testimony to what you saw firsthand, Detective Carisi.”

Sonny sighed and took a breath, reminding himself he had to keep a cool head, as to not ruin their chances of keeping Reynolds in jail indefinitely. It didn’t change the fact he wanted nothing more than to jump over the stand and directly to Reynolds to strangle the life out of him.

“What did you find after you confirmed Rachel Baker was dead?” Stone asked, looking at the jury then back to Sonny.

“I searched the room and noticed there was signs that there could’ve been a child in the apartment, so I searched and eventually found Annabelle in the closet of one of the rooms,” Sonny answered, intentionally leaving out how the apartment was also littered with things a child should never be exposed to. He knew the defense was likely to question him about it, but he was going to volunteer it unless he had to.

“Annabelle, who was Rachel Baker’s daughter?”

He gulped and bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying something he regretted. Annabelle had only been with him and Rafael for three months, but it didn’t matter to him. She was the light of his life, and to think that she used to live in such squalor with a woman as terrible as Rachel Baker made him sick to his stomach.

“Yeah, at the time.”

“So, you found Annabelle Baker—”

Hearing her be called by Rachel’s last name made Sonny flinch a little. He hoped the jury didn’t notice the way his body tensed up. He locked eyes with Rafael in the galley, receiving a little nod from his husband. If he continued to look at Rafael and think about his daughter, currently spending the afternoon with his mother-in-law, maybe he’d get through the day.

“—hiding in a closet. You took her out of the closet and to the hospital, then back to your precinct to take her statement, is that right?”

“Yeah. She was pretty traumatized, but she told us about how she heard yelling from her room, and that there was a man outside.”

“Objection, hearsay!” Braun tried, shooting a glare at both Sonny and then Stone.

“Your honor,” Stone started, pulling a document from his file. “Lieutenant Benson, Detective Rollins, and ADA Barba can all testify to hearing this conversation as well. Unless, of course, we’d prefer to make a traumatized three-year-old testify.”

“Ah yes, ADA Barba, who’s married to Detective Carisi, that just screams impartiality, your honor.”

“Enough, both of you,” the judge said before she sat back in her chair. She seemed to churn it over in her brain for a few seconds before looking at Sonny. “I’ll allow it, but to a point.”

“What did Annabelle say about the man outside her room?” Stone asked, laying the file back down on his desk before making his walk back to looking at the jury.

“She said the man _looked at her funny_ before Rachel Baker yelled at her to go back to her room. She got scared and hid in the closet, heard more yelling, then a loud bang, and more people yelling. We took that as her having heard her mother be shot by—”

_Reynolds._

“—the suspect, then us entering the apartment.”

“So, the suspect shot Rachel Baker, fully aware her three-year-old daughter was at home, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“It’s also correct that, as we’ll hear from Detective Rollins later, a gun found in a dumpster nearby Rachel Baker’s apartment had Carson Reynolds’ fingerprints on it?” Stone asked, his eyes never wavering from the jury. All the while, Sonny’s didn’t waver from Rafael.

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Detective Carisi, nothing further.”

Stone sat down at his desk and Braun made his way to the jury. Sonny couldn’t bring himself to watch him walk his way through the courtroom, couldn’t make himself do anything other than keep solid eye contact with his husband. Idly, he turned his wedding ring over and over on his finger, a nervous habit he’d picked up since he’d first gotten his engagement ring over two years ago.

“You’re married, aren’t you Detective?”

“Objection, relevance?” Stone tried.

“There’s a direct line here, your honor,” Braun said, his sleazy grin making its way onto his face.

“Overruled. Get to it, Mr. Braun,” the judge responded.

Sonny sighed. “Yes, I’m married.” 

“How long?”

He didn’t like where this was going. “Three years in two months.”

“Have any kids?”

He _really_ didn’t like where this was going. “My husband—”

“—ADA Barba?”

“Yes. ADA Barba,” he confirmed. He wasn’t unused to his relationship with Rafael being brought up during trial, especially the occasional one Rafael could try with him involved in, but this was different. All those other times his marriage had been put on the stand was usually at a last-ditch effort by some barely out of law school public defender with nothing else to use than relationship between a detective and an ADA. His marriage, his relationship with Rafael, his _family_ had never been a crucial part of a trial before.

“Rafael and I took Annabelle in after her foster-family at the time refused to keep her when they heard about the potential of a protective detail or squad cars sitting outside their home.”

“Do you make it a habit to foster all the children you find while working at SVU?” Braun asked, a tone to his voice that made Sonny want to punch him in the face even more than normal.

“This was different.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“Annabelle’s life before coming to live with me and Rafael was… it was awful,” he said, his voice as even as possible. “I saw what state she was in when I took her to the hospital, I took her statement, and the whole time she wouldn’t let go of me. She trusted me after I pulled her out of that closet, and so it worked out for her to come stay with us. We didn’t know if she was in any danger or not, we just wanted to keep her safe.”

“You two plan to adopt her, is that correct?”

His stomach continued to do backflips. He could see the unease in Rafael’s face from across the court, sitting alone behind Stone. Sonny wasn’t sure what he hated more, the fact that he was up on the witness stand alone, or that Rafael was sitting alone in front of him, and he couldn’t do anything to comfort him. He had to keep reminding himself that after all this was over, when Reynolds was inevitably found guilty, they’d go pick Annabelle up from Lucia’s house and go home, go on with their life, forget about Reynolds’ existence forever.

Maybe they’d take Annabelle out for ice cream after today was over. Maybe go to the park. Maybe plan a playdate with Jesse for the weekend. Maybe—

“Detective Carisi?”

“Sorry, uh… yeah. We’re planning on adopting her,” he answered, a short nod.

He wanted nothing more for Stone to call objection on this line of questioning, but he knew he wouldn’t— _couldn’t._ Any half-competent lawyer would call Annabelle’s pending adoption into question.

“You only took Annabelle in once you found out who her biological father is, is that correct?”

“We took Annabelle in once we found out her biological father had his fingerprints on a gun that killed her mother, and had been arrested and jailed for assault,” Sonny snapped, pulling his eyes from Rafael and shooting a glare at Braun.

“So, that’s a yes,” he said, turning from the jury to look at Sonny.

“We were afraid that he might try and come for his daughter. We didn’t know what he was capable of. For all we knew, he wanted to kill Annabelle like he killed Rachel.”

Just saying it caused Sonny to shiver. The thought of Annabelle meeting the same fate of her mother was the last thing Sonny ever wanted to think about.

“Like he _supposedly_ killed Rachel,” Braun corrected. “Were you there when the gun was shot?”

“No, but—”

“Did Annabelle give you anything to confirm, one-hundred percent, that it was him in the room?”

“No, but he confessed to—”

“Let me off you a theory, Detective,” Braun cut him off once more. _God,_ Sonny wanted to punch him in the face. “You save Annabelle, she becomes attached to you, trusts you, and so you decide to take her in. At first, it’s because you want to protect her from the supposed big bad wolf, but eventually you realize, _hey,_ you want to keep her. You’ve grown attached, you consider her your daughter, so you’d do _anything_ to keep her with you, to keep her safe. Does that sound right?”

He knew he was walking into a trap, but he was under oath, and there wasn’t much he could do. “I guess so.”

“Even if that means planting evidence, trying to get her biological father sent to prison for the rest of his life. There’d be nothing keeping you and ADA Barba from adopting her if her biological father was out of the picture, am I right, Detective?”

“Objection!”

“You’re a NYPD detective, you’re close to your squad, consider them friends. They’d help you plant the evidence, help you _‘prove’_ that my client was Rachel Baker’s murderer just so you could adopt his daughter right out from under him, am I right?

“Objection, your honor!” Stone yelled, his hand slamming on the desk. “He’s badgering the witness; this entire line of questioning is prejudicial. Detective Carisi isn’t the one on trial here.”

“Withdrawn,” Braun said, a smirk on his face, his hands coming up in surrender. He gave the jury a look that causes Sonny to feel faint before he starts back towards his seat next to Reynolds. “Nothing further.”

 

\--

 

“You interrogated Carson Reynolds, that’s correct?”

Amanda sat back in her seat and looked towards Stone. She knew it was a part of the job, but she’d always hated testifying. It was even worse now that it was personal. Braun seemed intent on turning this into something it wasn’t; she wasn’t surprised that he’d tried to accuse SVU of planting evidence just so Sonny and Barba could adopt Annabelle, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

“Yes. Along with Lieutenant Benson,” she answered.

“And he confessed to kill Rachel Baker,” Stone said, turning to the jury. They looked a mix of bored, disgusted, and intrigued by the case. Amanda wanted to stand up and scream at them, remind them how important this case was. It only took one juror to cause a mistrial; they all had to pay attention to this, they all had to know how important it was for them to find Reynolds guilty.

“Yes, he did,” she responded. “He told us that he saw Annabelle and put two and two together. Apparently, she looks just like his sister did when she was younger. So, Rachel Baker admitted that she was his biological daughter, and he reacted by shooting her.”

“Who was it that found the gun?” Stone asked, his gaze back on Amanda.

“I did. It was in a dumpster on the route we followed in pursuit of the suspect,” she answered. She’d learned from what Barba had told her about Carisi’s testimony to not say it was Reynolds unless she could prove beyond a reasonable doubt that it was. Looking into the galley, she saw Carisi and Barba holding onto each other like their lives depended on it.

Thinking back to the first time she met both of them, the first time she saw the two interact, she wouldn’t have ever imagined them being here. Not them being married, not them having a daughter, and definitely not them sitting in a courtroom, holding onto each other like lifelines, hoping to a God she knew only one of them believed in that their daughter wouldn’t be taken from them by an error in a trial.

“What happened next?”

“I secured the gun and got it to CSU, so they could send it to get DNA and prints off it.”

“And the fingerprints proved to belong to Carson Reynolds?” Stone inquired.

“Yes. We were also informed that he was the biological father of Annabelle.”

Stone turned to the jury, giving them an intense a look that matched some of the looks she’d seen Barba give juries before. “Shortly after that, Detective Carisi and ADA Barba took Annabelle in as a foster child, correct?”

“Yes. They were unaware of what Reynolds wanted when it came to Annabelle, and Detective Carisi thought she would be safest with a detective watching her back,” she answered. She expected Braun to call hearsay, but he didn’t. It was all in some court document from when Carisi and Barba had started the paperwork to foster her, anyways.

“Back to your interrogation with Reynolds,” Stone started again. “You told him you found the gun with his prints on them, and he admitted to killing Rachel Baker?”

“Not at first, but we pretended to sympathize with him. We told him we understood why he did it, that it made sense he’d be angry and want his daughter back.” She looked over at Reynolds for the first time during the trial; he was seething, just as he’d been that fateful day a few weeks back. “Once he thought we were on his side, we got him to confess.”

Stone pulled out a piece of paper from a file on the table. “Prosecution exhibit 2.C,” Stone stated, handing the paper to Amanda. “Can you tell the jury what this is?”

“Yeah, it’s the transcript between me, Lieutenant Benson, and Carson Reynolds.”

“Can you read the highlighted portion?”

Amanda looked down at the paper, the font neat and professional, coupled with the yellow highlight that covered a portion of the paper. “‘The bitch yelled at her to go to her room, and when I tried to follow her, she grabbed me and tried to pull me away. We yelled at each other, she admitted that she was my daughter, so I shot her. The bitch kept me from my daughter, she deserved to fucking die. She deserved worth than death,’” she quoted, looking down at the paper and then back up to the jury. 

“That was the statement from Reynolds?” Stone clarified, turning to the jury again.

“Yes.”

“What took place after that?”

“We gave up the sympathy act and let Reynolds know he was going to be tried for murder along with drug dealing, and credit fraud,” she answered.  

“How’d he take it?”

“Not well. Once he found out he’d have no chance at getting to see Annabelle again he freaked out. He rushed me, slammed me against the interrogation room window, and put his arm to my throat, attempting to choke me out.”

“You suffered a concussion and needed stitches, is that correct?”

“Yes,” she answered, nodding a bit in the direction of the jury.

“So, not only do we have a clear admission of guilt, we also have evidence of his assault on you.” There was a click, and then Amanda saw pictures taken at the hospital of her own wounds. “Prosecution exhibit 2.D.”

As she looked over at the screen, she saw the red mark across her neck from where Reynolds had tried to choke her out and the bloody mess that was the back of her head after she’d been assaulted. There was nothing she hated more than looking at her own injuries; it reminded her that she wasn’t invulnerable, that one wrong move and Jesse could end up without a mother.

“That’s you, am I correct?”

“You are,” she answered simply, tearing her eyes away from the pictures of herself on the screen. She looked at Olivia, who gave her a calming smile. It eased her tension for the moment, at least.

“Nothing further, your honor,” Stone said, clicking the device in his hand once more, letting the images of Amanda’s wounds fade from the screen, much to her relief.

Braun made his way up to the stand, looking as skeevy as ever. “Hello, Detective Rollins.”

She didn’t respond, just gave him a curt nod. She didn’t want to interact with this sleazeball anymore than she wanted to look at her own injuries.

“Could you do me a favor and read what you said to the defendant before he rushed you?”

“Objection, relevance?”

“Speaks to the defendant’s state of mind,” Braun offered, his smile getting sleazier by the second.

There were some defense attorneys that SVU had worked against in the past that Amanda could tolerate. Braun wasn’t one of those attorneys. Amanda thought that she preferred being cross-examined by Buchannan than Braun.

“Overruled, you may proceed.”

Amanda sighed and looked back at the paper. “‘If Annabelle’s lucky, she’ll never remember you or Rachel. She’ll grow up with fathers who love her, and you’ll never see her again. How does that make you feel? Knowing someone else is going to be raising the kid you clearly want so bad, how does—’” she stopped and looked up at the jury. “And then he attacked me before I could finish.”

“So, you were rubbing it in his face that Detective Carisi and ADA Barba, your friends, were going to be raising his daughter.” He turned to look Amanda directly in the eye, making her squirm a bit in her seat. “You provoked him.”

“No, I told him that considering everything Annabelle had been through, it’d be in her best interest if she was raised by people who cared for _her,_ not just wanted her because they have the same blood.” She was starting to feel her blood boil. She knew she had to keep a cool head, for Annabelle’s sake, but she also had the overwhelming urge to stand on top of her chair and scream at the jury to not listen to the bullshit Braun was spouting. She wanted to challenge them to take one look at Reynolds, radiating hatred hotter than the sun, and tell her that he wasn’t guilty. Any sane person wouldn’t be able to do it.

“And you know for a fact Reynolds doesn’t care for her?” Braun said, his brow cocked up. “He told you this?”

“He didn’t have to. He talked about Annabelle like he was her property, never once called her by her name, just _my daughter_ ,” Amanda said, trying her best to keep her voice even, though it was proving more difficult by the second. “And if he really cared for her, he wouldn’t have killed her mother when she was two rooms away.”

“Again, _supposedly_ killed her. Need I remind you, you weren’t in the room with Rachel Baker when she was murdered.”

“No, I wasn’t, but there was fingerprints on a gun outside her apartment.”

“Yes, the gun,” Braun said, nodding. “We’ve been over that. It seems that this gun, conveniently found by you outside the apartment in a dumpster, after you lost the defendant, is the only thing really tying my client to this, isn’t it?”

“Objection!”

“Withdrawn,” Braun said, raising his hands up.

“He confessed to killing her,” Amanda tried, her fingernails digging into her arm, trying her best to focus on anything other than her overwhelming urge to sock the grin right off Braun’s face.

“After you lied to him. You made him feel like killing Rachel Baker was a good thing, did you not? You told him all about what a terrible mother she was, how disgusting and dangerous her apartment was, and told him that it was _understandable_ that he’d want Rachel dead.”

“It was a tactic.”

“A tactic? To get him to confess, or to illicit a false confession so you could put this to bed? So, your friends, Carisi and Barba,” he pointed to them sitting in the galley, making a show for the jury, “could keep his daughter?”

“Objection!”

“Withdrawn,” Braun said, his smile widening as he turned to the jury. The way the jury was looking at each other made Amanda tense up. Everyone knew that just because a statement was withdrawn, or the jury had been instructed to disregard it, didn’t mean they’d actually forget about it. “Nothing further.”

 

\--

 

Annabelle slept soundly on Rafael’s lap as he and Sonny sat on their couch, both pretending to watch something on TV, but neither really paying attention to it. Annabelle had her head pressed up against Rafael’s chest, her chest moving up and down as she breathed in her sleep. Meanwhile, Rafael had his head resting against Sonny’s shoulder, one hand twined with his husband’s, the other resting on his daughter’s arm to keep her from rolling off his lap in her sleep.

The trial had been going on for what felt like months, but in reality, it was only four days. Braun had called a myriad of witnesses to try and prove that SVU was framing Reynolds for Rachel Baker’s murder just so he and Sonny could adopt Annabelle out from under him. The more he thought about it, the more he got flashbacks to Johnny D’s trial. He’d tried to paint the picture that Olivia had tried to put Johnny Drake in jail just so she could adopt Noah, and he was doing the same with Annabelle. Rafael wasn’t surprised, really. As a prosecutor, he knew every dirty trick defense attorneys had up their sleeves, but there was a major difference between going against it in court and sitting in the galley, completely defenseless.

Braun was doing a fair job at casting reasonable doubt into the jury’s mind, but he knew Stone was doing everything within his power to get them to see the truth. Still, every time he thought about the potential of a not guilty verdict, he almost got physically sick. He wanted the whole ordeal to be over, he wanted things to be _normal,_ wanted his daughter to have a normal life.

“What are we gonna do?” He’d spoken without really meaning to, his voice quiet and a second away from breaking.

“I don’t know,” Sonny responded, not having to clarify what Rafael meant. Rafael knew the fear was as much in the forefront of Sonny’s head as it was his.

Rafael looked down at Annabelle, her red hair in a ponytail laying to the side, Bee in her arms as usual. She’d grown so much in the last three months, not just in size, but as a human being. She was still anxious, still had trouble sleeping, still clung to his or Sonny’s side whenever they left the house, but she’d come so far from the first night they brought her home, when she’d stayed up all night screaming.

“We can’t lose her,” Rafael muttered, his hand gently caressing her arm. “We can’t let that psychopath take her. We don’t know what he’ll do to her, I mean—”

“He won’t,” Sonny cut him off, looking down at him with what he assumed was supposed to be a comforting look. There wasn’t much that could comfort him now, though. Not when all he could think about was Reynolds on the loose and trying to file for custody of Annabelle. “There’s no way they’ll find him not guilty, not on everything at least. I mean, like Stone said… if anything, there’s the assault on Amanda.”

“What about all the bullshit he said about you planting evidence? Braun seems pretty intent on continuing to push that, what if the jury buys it?” Rafael asked. He wasn’t thinking as a lawyer anymore; all knowledge of law and the court system seemed to escape him as he thought of the prospect of Annabelle somehow ending up in the arms of a murderer.

“You know they won’t buy that,” Sonny tried, giving his hand a squeeze. “They’ll see right through it. There was no proof of evidence tampering, just Braun trying to put doubt in their minds.”

“He doesn’t _need_ evidence, proof of evidence doesn’t fall on the defense, he could—”

“I passed the bar too, Raf,” Sonny said, his voice gentle and teasing. His joking tone was a slight relief, easing the tension that had encapsulated their home since the trial started.  

Rafael sighed and nodded, closing his eyes and leaning further back into the couch. “Sorry, I’m just anxious. Scared.”

“Me too.” Sonny leaned back with Rafael. “But everything’s going to be okay. No one’s takin’ her from us. The jury’ll see right through Reynolds, even if he doesn’t testify, they can tell he’s a scumbag. You saw how a couple of them were looking at him.”

“You’re right.” Rafael leaned into Sonny a bit more, letting him untwine their hands and put one around him and Annabelle.

“I’m always right.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Rafael grumbled, but he couldn’t help the light in his eyes as he looked over to Sonny. His husband rolled his eyes and leaned in, giving him a kiss on the forehead.

Either the movement or their voices stirred Annabelle awake, causing her to stretch her little arms and yawn. She stayed on Rafael’s lap, cuddling into him more and looking over to Sonny. “Hi,” she said, her voice still sleepy.

“Did you have a nice nap?” Sonny asked, his voice switching from worried to chipper.

She nodded and pulled Bee up to sit on Rafael’s chest. She was quiet for about a minute, besides the occasional yawn, as she tried to wake herself up. Eventually, she sat up on Rafael’s lap and stretched her arms out before rubbing at her eyes.

“Can we go to the park?” she asked once she’d woken herself up, looking first to Sonny and then to Rafael.

They shared a glance and Sonny shrugged. It was still early enough in the day that it wasn’t too chilly for her to be outside for very long. “Sure thing, Jellybean,” Sonny said, standing up and holding his arms out. “Let’s get you dressed while Daddy gets ready, huh?” he said, reminding Rafael that he was still in his pajamas.

Annabelle let Sonny pick her up and take her towards her room to get her into warmer clothes. March in New York tended to still be cold, but Annabelle never seemed to mind the cold. Sonny, on the other hand, hated the cold. The first year they lived together, Rafael had to adjust to cranking the heat up in the winter, or else Sonny would be in a constant state of _it’s too cold, Raf, I’m going to freeze to death,_ while already piled under three blankets.

Like Annabelle, Rafael didn’t much mind the cold. He chalked it up to being a native New Yorker, but the fact that whenever it was cold, he’d usually have Sonny wrapped in his arms to keep him warm was a definite plus.

Leaving the house with a child in tow was something Rafael hadn’t expected to be as difficult as it was. Even with going to a park not three blocks away, there was so much involved. After a week of having Annabelle, he’d made sure to text both Amanda and Olivia to apologize for all the times he’d accused them of using their kids as an excuse for being late. He’d been late to work more times in the last four months than he’d been in his entire life. He even showed up to a meeting with Rita and a client with magic marker on his shirt without knowing until Rita pointed out to him at the end of the meeting.

 _“That’s a nice shirt, counselor,”_ she’d said, a smirk on her face.

He’d lifted his eyebrow, wondering what angle she was playing at. _“Thank you?”_

_“I especially like the purple line next to your tie.”_

He’d been confused until she’d instructed him to look down. There had, in fact, been a long purple line from one side of his shirt to the other. Five months ago, before he was a father, he might have gone into a rage, deciding to hunt down whoever had ruined his shirt and give them a piece of his mind, but now he could just smile and laugh it off.

_“Fatherhood suits both you and your wardrobe.”_

The walk to the park was as quick as it could be with a three-year-old with them. Annabelle tended to stop and point out all the animals— _Daddy look, a kitty! Daddy look, a squirrel! Daddy look, a puppy!—_ but it was endearing, and Rafael couldn’t help but to smile as she pointed out every single pigeon, squirrel, dog, or cat in a three-block radius.

Once at the park, Annabelle made an immediate bee-line to the slides. They followed behind her to keep an eye on her but kept a short distance to allow her to play with other kids in relative peace. Rafael was always relieved to watch her interact with other kids, her social anxiety starting to ease into a normal child’s shyness.

“We’re gonna be okay, you know.” Sonny was leaning against one of the playground sets, nearby one of the slides Annabelle was climbing up. He gave her a little wave as she looked over to see if he was watching her.

“Yeah, I know,” Rafael responded, though he wasn’t sure how convinced he was. No matter how much he wanted to pretend everything was going to be okay, he couldn’t help the stubborn voice of pragmatism that lived in his head. It might have made him a good lawyer, but it made him an anxious mess when it came to his personal life.

“Did you see me?” Annabelle asked, running over to them with a huge smile on her face.

“Yeah, we did,” Sonny said, a huge smile on his face. “I got your picture, too.” He bent down to her level, showing her the picture he’d snapped of her the first time she’d gone down the slide.

“Can we swing now?” she questioned, looking up to Rafael and then back to Sonny.

“Sure thing,” Sonny answered, taking her hand and starting over to the swings. Rafael started to follow them over to the swing set, occupied by a few other parents and nannies either pushing their kids in the swings or watching with smiles on their faces.

Rafael watched with a smile on his face as Sonny pushed Annabelle on the swing, his phone out as he took pictures of Annabelle’s gleeful laughter as she kicked her legs in the swing. He was confident in thinking that he’d taken more pictures of Annabelle in the last three months than he’d ever taken on his phone in the duration that he’d had it.

“She yours?”

Rafael turned to see a man standing beside him. He was tall, wearing a ratty old shirt and jeans. He looked out of place in a park full of children, but Rafael didn’t want to make a harsh judgement on first impressions. For all he knew, he was here with his own kid. However, he was also a parent, which had turned him even more vigilant than working with SVU ever had.

“Yeah,” he answered simply. “Where’s—?”

His attempt to question where the man’s own kid was got cut off by the man stepping uncomfortably close to Rafael. He felt his stomach twist, anxiety weaving its way through his body. “I certainly hope nothing happens to either of you. I hear losing a parent can be hard on a kid, but she’s already lost one, hasn’t she?”

Rafael’s heart stopped in instant. Momentarily, he lost the ability to think straight, only feeling terrified at whatever the man’s intentions were. While terror settled through his body, he attempted to keep a calm demeanor; if he was known for one thing, it was for refusing to show weakness when someone was threatening him. After all, he’d all but dared a thug-for-hire to push him down courthouse stairs once a few years ago. It didn’t mean he wasn’t horrified, then or now.

As much as he hoped Sonny had taken notice of the conversation, he knew he wouldn’t have caught any of this, being so caught up in pushing their daughter on the swing. He gripped his phone tighter, wondering if he could somehow call Sonny’s phone to get his attention to look over at him.

“It’s broad daylight, what are you going to do?” He was doing his best to stay unaffected and act like he had the upper-hand, which was proving harder and harder by the minute with the rate at which his heart was beating. “My husband’s a cop, as I’m sure you know. You as much as put a hand on me, or God forbid our daughter, you’ll be in the hospital. If you’re lucky. I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up in the morgue.”

The man shot him a snarl which soon turned into a smirk that shot unease through Rafael’s body. “All I’m saying, is you might not want to kick the hornet’s nest.” He looked over to Annabelle and Sonny, still laughing and swinging, before turning his gaze back to Rafael.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m sure you don’t want either yourself or your husband to end up floating in the Hudson.”

With another malicious smirk, the man turned on his heel and made his way off into the distance. Rafael felt sick, his body tensing up as he attempted to call for Sonny, to move, to breathe, to do _something_ other than stand in shock. He wasn’t sure how long it was until Sonny came up to him, though he guessed it couldn’t have been long, putting his hand on Rafael’s shoulder.

“You okay, Babe?” Sonny asked, his face still lit up from pushing Annabelle on the swing. Annabelle was down at his side, bent over and playing with the mulch on the ground. They were both completely unaware at what had just happened. Rafael wished nothing more than for it to remain that way, but he learned years ago when he’d gotten those death threats that pretending something didn’t happen doesn’t mean it goes away.  

“No,” Rafael finally said once he remembered how to speak. “No, someone just threatened us.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i know i said i was gonna update friday but i got drunk instead. so. oops. anyway thanks again for all the love for this story! this chapter's sorta long but i couldn't really pick a point to cut it in half so w/e. leave a comment, kudos, etc. 
> 
> we're about halfway through the story now (chronologically at least) so. yeet
> 
> feel free to follow me on twitter and tumblr:  
> \- twitter: @rrafaelbarba  
> \- tumblr: www.rrafaelbarba.tumblr.com

Sonny’s blood hadn’t stopped boiling since Rafael had told him about the threat. Even though they were safe and sound in The Lieutenant’s office, he still felt like someone was going to jump out from behind them and make good on the threat. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that’s how he’d felt for months. It was like some sort of dark boogeyman would jump from the shadows and continue to wreak havoc on his life. The boogeyman always seemed to take shape of Carson Reynolds, but the shape was undefined today. Rafael had been the one to see the man who’d threatened them, not Sonny.

“What did he look like?” Olivia asked, Fin and Amanda standing behind her. Annabelle had passed out on the couch behind them not long ago. Between running around at the park, the rather hasty trip to the precinct, and some playing in the interview room with Amanda while Sonny and Rafael paced anxiously in Olivia’s office as they waited for her return, Annabelle had needed another nap. Sonny envied her ability to fall asleep wherever or whenever. He’d had a hard time sleeping since the trial started, and with the fear that something could happen to his family, he felt as if he’d never be able to sleep soundly again.

“He was white, tall, brown eyes… just altogether rough looking,” Rafael answered, his hand tapping nervously on Olivia’s desk. He looked exhausted, but then again, he hadn’t been sleeping well either. Sonny couldn’t count how many times they’d laid awake at night and just held each other, a silent promise that no matter what, they’d be there for the other. “I’d never seen him before.”

Olivia nodded a few times before leaning back in her seat and looking towards Rafael and Sonny, sitting in the chairs across from her desk. He didn’t much like being treated like the victim, even if that’s exactly what they were. “I’m sure you know what this means.”

“Protective detail following us wherever we go.” It was the same deal when Rafael had gotten those death threats a few years back, except those had been empty threats, just attempting to scare him into dropping charges. This was different. They knew for a fact these weren’t empty threats; Reynolds had done something like this before to keep someone from testifying. Sonny could only wonder why this hadn’t happened before he testified. “She was supposed to be safe with just _us.”_

“I doubt whoever this is wants to hurt Annabelle.” Amanda was giving Sonny a sympathetic yet sad smile, her eyes focused on him for a moment before looking back to Annabelle, holding Bee tight to her chest as she snoozed. “Whoever he was, he was working with, or for, Reynolds. He doesn’t wanna hurt Annabelle.”

“No, he just wants us dead like the rape victim he murdered to keep from testifying,” Rafael grumbled. No one quite knew how to respond to that. It was clear that it had been on everyone’s mind, Rafael had just been the only one brazen enough to say it out loud, to absolutely no one’s surprise.

“We’re putting you up in a hotel,” Olivia broke the uncomfortable silence. “If you need anything from your apartment Rollins can pick it up for you and bring it over.”

“How long is this going to last?” Sonny asked, though he knew no one knew for sure.

“Maybe once Reynolds is found guilty—”

“ _If,”_ Rafael corrected Amanda. Sometimes Rafael’s _glass half empty_ attitude got on Sonny’s nerves, but again, everyone was thinking it.

“ _When_ Reynolds is found guilty,” Amanda persevered, fixing Rafael with a confident look. “It might go away. He could give up, count his losses.”

“We don’t know that,” Sonny muttered. Maybe Rafael’s pragmatism was rubbing off on him. God forbid.

Olivia sighed and took her glasses off, leaning back in her chair and giving them both a tired look of sympathy. Sonny wondered how long Olivia had been working before they’d come in. He could imagine that she was dying to get home to Noah, but he knew she wouldn’t say anything about it.

“Carisi’s right,” she said, putting her glasses down on her desk and reaching forward to get the phone on her desk. “I’ll make the call, get a protective detail set for you guys.”

Sonny knew without even looking at him that that Rafael wasn’t crazy about either staying in a hotel or a protective detail. Sonny wasn’t either, if he was being honest, but he knew they were both aware of what was at stake. These weren’t empty threats used to scare them—this was real.

 

\--

 

The next few hours were a rushed blur, between meeting their protective detail and getting to the hotel. Luckily enough for them, Annabelle didn’t seem to be phased by any of it, though that was mostly to do with Amanda telling her they were going on a mini-vacation. Sonny was grateful for that, considering his brain had been too fried to think of any way to explain why they were staying somewhere that wasn’t home to his daughter. It seemed so easy, in hindsight, but at the time all he could think about was how terrified he was.

The protective detail was to stay outside their hotel room for the night and follow them wherever they go until whoever had threatened them was caught. As much as he hated it, they were playing another waiting game, their lives on the line this time. He felt powerless, knowing there was nothing he could do about it.  

“What do you need from your apartment?” Amanda asked once they got checked into their hotel room.

“I… I don’t know, honestly,” Sonny said, looking back to Rafael for help, though Rafael seemed to be lost in thought. He didn’t blame him. “Can’t I just go?”

“You know you can’t.” Amanda was giving him a stern look, but it wasn’t doing much to stop him from wanting to go back to his apartment, if only for the ten minutes it took to get their things.

“Nothing will happen to me if you’re there. Whoever did this is an idiot, but I don’t think they’re stupid enough to attack two detectives.”

Amanda looked back at Rafael, who still seemed completely zoned out, and then back to Sonny. “Fine, fine, but we’re taking one of the detail with us.”

“No, we aren’t,” Sonny said quickly, looking behind Amanda to see the two agents standing outside the door. “We’ll be fine, Amanda. I want them to stay here, make sure they’re safe.” He motioned behind him to Rafael, who’d only just broken out of his daze when Annabelle had gotten his attention. The two had moved over to the couch, Rafael showing Anabelle something that had caught her attention on the little coffee table that sat in front of it.

“He’s gonna hate this,” Amanda muttered, nodding in the direction of Rafael.

“Yeah, well,” Sonny shrugged as he trailed off. “I’ll figure something out. Go tell the detail you’re taking me to my apartment.”

“ _They’re_ gonna hate this.”

“ _You’ll_ figure something out.”

Amanda rolled her eyes and turned around, making her way towards the security detail. Her job was considerably less daunting than Sonny’s.

“You okay?” Sonny asked as he walked up to Rafael and Annabelle, leaning against couch. Annabelle had made herself comfortable on the couch, next to him, transfixed on a video Rafael had put on for her on his phone.  

“No, not really,” Rafael admitted, but he gave Sonny a resigned smile. “You?”

“About the same.” Sonny leaned over so he was closer to his husband, mirroring his smile. “It’ll be over soon. The trial can’t last for that much longer.”

As Rafael nodded, Sonny noticed again how exhausted he looked; the trial had taken a toll on them both. Sonny felt like he was always a mix of angry and anxious, like he would start screaming or crying at any moment. Maybe both. Rafael, on the other hand, just looked tired. The only saving grace was that Annabelle had no clue what was going on; she was none the wiser at the fact that twelve normal citizens would have the final decision on the direction her life would take. If Reynolds was found not guilty, there was nothing stopping him from taking her from them. She had no clue of that, but her fathers couldn’t help but to be haunted by it.

The more Sonny thought about it, the more he felt like he’d be sick. It was the most terrifying thought he could entertain, and it’d been living with him for months. It was the same boogeyman in the same dark corners of his life that he couldn’t quite rid himself of.

“Annabelle’s gonna be hungry soon,” Rafael changed the subject, looking down at their daughter. She had Bee on her lap, her head pressed against the armrest of the other side of the couch. She looked so serene and happy, despite the chaos around her. “Do you want me to order something while you tell Rollins what we need from the apartment?”

“Uh, about that,” Sonny started, standing up and looking behind him. Amanda had already finished her conversation with the detail, and she was just lingering at the side of the door. He could tell she was pretending not to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Rafael was quiet for a moment before realization hit him. “Sonny, no.”

“Raf…”

“ _Sonny, no,”_ Rafael repeated, standing up and walking towards him. “You aren’t leaving this hotel.”

“I’ll be fine,” Sonny tried, reaching out to put his hand on Rafael’s arm. “Whoever’s doing this isn’t gonna attack me when I’m with another detective. They’re stupid, not suicidal.”

Sonny could see the concern washing over Rafael’s face, causing Sonny to feel guilty for even having suggested leaving the safety of their guarded hotel room. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him, giving him a tight hug. It’d only been a few hours since they’d sat on their couch with Annabelle napping on Rafael’s lap, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Sonny thought that he might be able to forget how turbulent the last few hours were just for a few minutes if he hugged Rafael tight enough.

He couldn’t, but it was at least a little comforting.

“I promise, I’ll be fine,” he repeated, pulling away just enough to look at Rafael, green eyes soft and full of worry.

“How do you know that?” Rafael asked, his eyes squinting a little as he surveyed Sonny’s face, like he was looking for some possible reason why his husband would want to leave the safety of their hotel room.

“Because, no one’s going to try and attack two detectives. Whoever’s doing this is a dumbass, but I don’t think they’re suicidal,” he said, relaying the same logic he’d shelled out to Amanda a few minutes prior. “Also, do you really want Amanda helplessly poking through our home trying to figure out what we need?”

“I’d prefer it to you leaving me,” Rafael snapped, though there was more fear in his voice than venom.

Sonny gave him an understanding smile and moved his arms to brace against Rafael’s arms, squeezing a bit. If anything, he was trying to reassure him without words that he’d be fine. _They’d_ be fine. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Rafael’s mouth before speaking again. “I’ll be back in under an hour, I promise. When I get back we can eat, watch a movie, I don’t know. Pretend today didn’t happen.”

“You think that’s possible?”

Sonny shrugged and looked down at Annabelle, giggling at whatever was on her father’s phone. “Seems like it’s possible for her.”

“She’s three, she doesn’t know shit about what’s going on,” Rafael retorted, though his voice was full of relief. “Thankfully,” he added, a sigh escaping his lips. He looked back up to Sonny and put a hand to his cheek, giving him a soft look of defeat. “Fine, go. Just be careful.”

“Always.”

Reluctantly, Rafael nodded before leaning in and pressing his lips against Sonny’s. Sonny hoped yet again that he could just melt into Rafael and forget how terrible the situation they were in was. It was a useless thought, and he knew that there was no forgetting nor pretending that they weren’t in the situation they were in, but he could at least pretend for a few seconds that it was just him and Rafael. With his eyes shut, his husband’s hands gently resting on his hips, and his lips against his, he could imagine what it was like to be safe.

They stayed like that, kissing and pretending—or forgetting—that there was anyone else in the room, until Sonny heard Amanda clear her throat behind them. Sonny sighed and pulled away just enough so he was no longer kissing Rafael.

“We’ll pick something up to eat on the way back.”

“Okay,” Rafael said, leaning his forehead in against Sonny’s for a second. “I love you.”

Another short, gentle, kiss before Sonny pulled away. “I love you, too.”

 

\--

 

“I just need a few things.”

Sonny unlocked his apartment door and trudged through the door like he was entering a forbidden room. Amanda nodded and followed him, watching as he threw his keys down on the stand next to the door. He’d been silent on the ride to his apartment, which was uncomfortably strange for Sonny. She and Sonny had the kind of friendship where comfortable silences were possible, but they rarely indulged in them, mostly because of Sonny. She might have found him annoying when they first met, but she’d gotten used to his chattiness. Eventually, she even held it dear to her heart, especially when he was reduced to silence.

“You need any help?”

“Nah.” Sonny shook his head and leaned against the island counter for a moment, taking survey of the room. “I just need some clothes, bathroom stuff, toys for Annabelle, maybe some movies or something so she doesn’t get bored. Who knows how long we’ll…” he trailed off, the list he’d been making halted by what she was sure were thoughts he didn’t care to think over. If they were anything like the thoughts she’d had since she found out her best friend’s family had been threatened, she couldn’t blame him for losing his train of thought.

Before she could say anything to comfort him, he shook his head a little and continued on. “Actually, can you get some toys for her? Most of ‘em are over there,” he said, pointing to a little spot in their living room where toys were piled somewhat neatly. “There’s probably a bag or something near them, but if not just—”

“I’ll figure something out. Go get what you need,” Amanda cut him off, giving him a small nod before watching as he made his way towards his bedroom.

As much as Amanda—and Barba, if what she’d overheard from their conversation was any indication—had wished Sonny would’ve stayed back at the hotel, she couldn’t help but feel grateful he’d come with her to get what they needed. She would’ve made do without him but considering how understandably distracted both Barba and Sonny were, she was sure she might’ve been a little lost trying to gather what they needed if they’d just have given her a list. It was much easier for her to gather some toddler toys into a bag than go through her friends’ house.

It didn’t take Amanda long to gather the toys together for Annabelle. When she was finished, she set the bag she’d put them in down on the couch and let herself look around the living room. When she first met Barba, she didn’t think she’d spend this much time in the man’s apartment. Hell, when she first met Barba she didn’t even want to spend time in his _office_ unless completely necessary. Once he and Sonny had moved in together, and eventually moved into a new apartment together when they got engaged, she found herself visiting a few times a week. There was something so incredibly homey about Barba and Carisi’s apartment, a feeling that only grew once they’d started fostering Annabelle.

Out of the corner of her eye, Amanda caught a glimpse of a framed picture on the wall behind their TV stand. It was a simple picture, Annabelle smiling cheek to cheek on Sonny’s shoulders, Barba looking up at her with an equally wide smile. The warmth in their home seemed to radiate from the smiles spreading across all three’s faces in that picture alone.

In the almost nine years she’d known Barba, and the almost seven that she’d known Carisi, she’d never seen either of them this happy. She’d had a similar thought when they got married, but this was different. It reminded her of when she first had Jesse, how she took one look at her baby girl and realized that she’d never love anything quite as much. She saw that same look on Barba and Sonny’s faces every time they looked at their daughter.

She didn’t want to think about the potential of her being taken away from them. It wouldn’t take a genius to see that they were the only stable and loving home she’d ever been in, but if Reynolds was found not guilty, the crimes she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he committed wouldn’t be considered when it came to a ruling over custody. If he was found not guilty, there was a very real possibility that Annabelle would be taken from the only loving parents she’d ever had and be given to a sociopath.

She shuddered just thinking about it.

“Raf’s mom took that.” Amanda jumped a little at Sonny’s voice, breaking its way through her thoughts. She turned back to look at him, two bags in his hands and a big stuffed teddy bear in the other. He wasn’t looking at her, though, instead looking through her and over at the photo on the wall. His expression was bittersweet, a smile that was more sad than happy. She could tell he was having the exact same thoughts she’d been having before he walked into the room.

“It’s really nice,” she offered, turning back to look at the wall. It wasn’t the only picture on the wall—there was a few from their wedding, a couple vacation pictures, one of the entire squad, a couple of them with Sonny’s family, one of Barba and Liv, and another of Sonny and herself—but it was the only one that stood out with as much joy.

“Yeah,” he murmured, a deep sigh escaping his body.

Amanda turned back to look at him again, his expression now more bitter than sweet. She could practically feel the hurt radiating off him. “Everything’s gonna be okay, you know that,” she said, trying to force a smile on her own face.

Sonny shook his head and turned away, flopping down on the couch behind him, the bags and bear falling to his feet. He put his head in his hands and sat for a few seconds, continuing to shake his head. Amanda moved over to the couch and sat next to him, letting her hand rest on his back in attempt to comfort him.

“I’m supposed to protect them,” he finally muttered, his head still in his hands. “This all started because _I_ was supposed to protect Annabelle. We thought that she’d be safe with just me and a squad car outside, but…” he trailed off and took a deep breath before pulling his head up to turn over to look at Amanda. He looked dangerously close to tears, a look that caused Amanda’s heart to ache. He let out a humorless laugh, a sound that was rooted in cruel realization of his own self-doubts. “I wasn’t enough.”

“You can’t blame yourself, Carisi.” She rubbed gentle circles into his back, trying her best to calm him down. “You did all you could, and you gave her a _home._ That’s more than she’s ever had before.”

“I know, but—”

“No, listen to me,” she interrupted, catching his blue eyes with her own. “You did all you could. You can’t blame yourself for not stopping things on a case you didn’t work. Reynolds is on us, not you. Besides, whoever this is, they aren’t going to hurt Annabelle. Reynolds wants her back, so she’s gotta stay safe. Whatever dumbass Reynolds put on this, he knows that.”

“That’s not all,” Sonny said, sniffling a little and turning his head to hide the fact that he’d started crying. “I don’t know what I’ll do if something happens to Rafael.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to him,” Amanda answered, though maybe a bit too quick for it to be convincing. “With the protective detail, and _you,_ he’ll be safe. You both will.”

Sonny sighed and wiped at his eye with the heel of his hand before looking back at Amanda. “You know, back when he got those death threats, it was… it was awful. I mean, we weren’t together back then. Not… not really, we were just sleeping together even though we both…” he shook his head and laughed a little, a breathy sound that sounded just as bittersweet as his smile.

“We had feelings for each other, and even though the death threats were awful, and I thought I might lose him before I even got a chance to actually have him, they… they brought us together. You know, the thought of losing him made me realize that life was too short to not tell him I was falling for him. Looking back, it’s stupid, because even then I knew he felt the same way, I was just scared. I don’t even know why I was scared, because being with him is the least terrifying thing in my life.”

Sonny stopped for a second, closing his eyes and letting out a breath to steady himself. “What I’m trying to say, is as awful and terrible as they were, they brought us together. They made us realize that we were supposed to be together, not just be these weird friends with benefits that not so secretly loved each other. At the end of the day, the death threats were nothing, just some people tryna scare him, but in a way I’m glad it happened, because it pushed us together. But this…”

He looked over to Amanda again, his eyes full of fear and tears. “There’s no bright side to this, Amanda. They aren’t trying to scare us, they’re trying to kill us. In their stupid, terrible minds, they think that us being dead means Reynolds will get Annabelle, which… it’s not possible, right? Even if we end up floating in the Hudson next week, Reynolds could still be in jail, or a judge could find Reynolds as crazy as we know he is and put Annabelle with a different family.”

Amanda wasn’t sure how to respond, all she could do was sit next to Sonny, rub his back, and listen to him as he tearfully worked through his emotions. Amanda knew that he was going through hell right now, and there were too many facets to the case to process logically when you were terrified of your husband dying or your daughter being taken away. She didn’t envy Sonny whatsoever, but at the same time, if she could’ve taken away his pain and held onto it for herself just to cause him any ease, she would have done it.

“What do you need me to do? I… I don’t know how to help,” she admitted, a sad twinge to her quiet voice. “But I’m here for you. Whatever you need, Sonny, I’m here for you.”

“Can you just… can you just sit here with me, just for a minute?” he asked, another sad smile crossing his lips. She could tell he was grateful for her being there for him without him having to say it.

Amanda nodded and moved a little closer to him, enveloping him in her arms and letting him lean against her as they sat in the silence of his apartment. Amanda knew Sonny was doing his best to stay strong for both Rafael and Annabelle, but she also knew that a person could only stay strong for so long until they felt like they were going to break.

That was the last thing she wanted to happen, and she was going to do everything in her power to keep it from happening.

 

\--

 

If Olivia were to make a list of things she hated, prisons would definitely be on the list. It was part of her job, and she could suck it up and do her job, interrogating whoever she needed to interrogate behind the secure walls of the jail, but she still hated being inside. It brought back a memory from years ago, undercover and helpless, that she would’ve much rather left buried in her mind.

Going to the jail to interrogate Reynolds wasn’t exactly something she was looking forward to, but she knew that it had to be done. Whoever had threatened Rafael and Carisi was working for Reynolds, there was no doubt about that. One of the things they’d learned about Reynolds, other than his propensity towards thinking everything belonged to him, was that his anger controlled him and therefore made him sloppy. Olivia was sure that the second he saw Amanda he’d be full of anger, giving them a step up in trying to figure out who was out there threatening her friend and his husband.

“You’re sure you’re alright with this?” Olivia asked, looking to her side where Amanda stood, her foot tapping against the floor as they waited for the guards to bring Reynolds in.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Amanda answered, giving Olivia a reassuring smile.

“You’re sure? The last time you saw Reynolds other than at trial he bashed your head against a wall.”

“Yeah, well,” Amanda paused and looked straight ahead, a little shrug at her shoulders. “Someone’s out there threatening to kill my best friend. I’d let him bash my head against a wall again if it meant I could stop that.”

As Lieutenant, Olivia knew she should probably say something to discourage such reckless behavior, but when it came down to it, she and Amanda were in the same boat. Carisi was Amanda’s friend just as Rafael was hers. In truth, she’d do the same thing Amanda was suggesting if it meant she knew that Rafael was safe.

“I’m here if things get ugly,” Olivia said once they’d both seen Reynolds and Braun making their way into the room.

“Same here,” Amanda returned, turning to Olivia and giving her a soft smile, one that Olivia thought she just might be able to melt into if they had more than a couple of seconds until they had to speak with Reynolds.

“Detective Rollins, Lieutenant Benson,” Braun acknowledged them, shooting sly and sleazy smiles at them while his client sat next to him and seethed. Olivia was starting to believe that this anger was a constant state for Reynolds. She wondered what had happened in Reynolds life to get him to this point of constant anger, but at the same time, she had a hard time caring after all he’d done. “Is there a reason you’re here with my client? We’re already at trial, and I don’t see the DA here to offer a deal.”

“We’re not here to offer a deal, Braun,” Amanda shot, her icy gaze fixed on Reynolds. If Olivia knew one thing about Amanda, it was that she refused to let anyone get the better of her. “We’re here to talk about the threats your client made towards Annabelle’s fathers.”

“ _I’m_ her father,” Reynolds growled, his eyes locked on Amanda. Olivia could feel the animosity from across the table. She felt the need to put herself between Reynolds and Amanda, just to keep Amanda from getting her head bust open again.

“No, you aren’t.” Amanda gave Reynolds an insincere smile, taunting him further into anger. “You get that you’re just a sperm donor, right? You were never there for her. You don’t know a single goddamn thing about her. _They_ are her family.”

“They aren’t her _fucking family!”_ Reynolds screamed, falling right into the trap they’d set for him. Olivia knew that Amanda wouldn’t have to push much harder for them to get something useful out of him. As terrifying as Reynolds’ recklessness was, it was something they could use to their advantage.

“Carson,” Braun stopped him, a warning tone to his voice, before turning back to Olivia. “Is that why you’re here? Because frankly, I find that ridiculous, considering my client has been in Rikers since he was wrongfully arraigned.”

“Save it,” Olivia responded, keeping her eyes trained on Braun for a moment before turning to look at Reynolds. “Who do you have threatening Annabelle’s family?”

“They aren’t—”

“Really? You’re still on that, huh?” Amanda cut him off with a chuckle. “ _God,_ you’re pathetic. You realize that she has no clue who you are, right? You’re just some bad memory in the back of her mind.”

Reynolds continued to glare at Amanda, his body shaking with rage. “You have no fucking clue what I could do to them, do you?”

“ _Carson.”_

“No! Neither of them are her fathers, _I’m_ her father. _Me.”_

“ _Carson!”_

Braun’s attempts of getting Reynolds to shut up were fruitless. It was remarkable, and terrifying, how little it took to set him off. A man like that potentially being around a child caused Olivia to need to grasp onto her own hand, knuckles going white. Reynolds might’ve talked a big game about wanting his biological daughter back and being her father, but Olivia knew what men like him would do to a child. All it would take was one tantrum and he’d take his anger out on a child who didn’t deserve it. She’d seen it too many times to count, and she’d be damned if she let it happen to Annabelle.

“You’re delusional if you think sending some lowlife thug to threaten an ADA and a detective will get you anywhere except even more jail time,” Amanda shot back, leaning in closer to Reynolds. Olivia knew how protective Amanda was over people she loved; all the fear she might have had of what Reynolds would do before the guards could stop him was culled by her overwhelming need to stand up for her best friend’s family.

“This conversation is useless,” Braun tried. Even he had to know when his client was being played. “You aren’t offering us anything, so what’s the point of you being here?”

“Do you really want to have the death of a little girl on your hands, Counselor?” Olivia asked, raising her brow as she looked in Braun’s direction. While directed at the attorney, the comment was completely for Reynolds’ benefit. They might have known whoever was threatening Rafael and Sonny’s lives weren’t going to hurt Annabelle, but Reynolds didn’t have to know they knew.

“No, no, no, no.” Reynolds shook his head, peeling his eyes from Amanda and fixing them on Olivia. “ _No,_ he said he wouldn’t hurt her, just—”

“For God’s sake Carson, that’s enough!”

“ _No!_ I told him to threaten _them,_ to do whatever he had to do to _them,_ not my daughter. Once I’m out of here I’m gonna get her back, I—”

“ _Carson!”_

Braun looked as if he was about to start pulling at whatever hair he had remaining. Olivia did her best to hide her satisfied smirk; Reynolds was right where they wanted him, and she got to see Braun sweat. All in all, it was turning out to be a successful interrogation.

“ _No!_ You’re lying, Matthews wouldn’t do that, I made sure of it!” Reynolds stood up, his hands slamming down on the table, eyes fixating on Olivia.

A guard started towards them, but Olivia raised her hand for him to stay put. She knew they wouldn’t get anything else useful out of him. If anything, she was starting to think Braun might personally drag him back to his cell by the ear.

“Thanks for your corporation,” Olivia said, a smirk on her face. She looked over to Braun, head in his hands, shaking his head at the stupidity of his client, and she couldn’t help but chuckle a little. Reynolds definitely wasn’t the brightest criminal they’d tried to put away, and while it made him reckless and dangerous, at least it was easy to manipulate him.

 

\--

 

Rafael felt cold as he walked into the bullpen. It’d only been two days since the threats, but each hour that trickled by where they didn’t have any information on who’d threatened them made him feel like his blood was freezing more and more by the second. When he’d gotten the call from Liv that they were pretty sure they had him in custody, he felt relief wash over him.

“Tell me what you know,” Rafael said as he approached her, feeling jumpier than he had in college when he’d survived on nothing but protein bars and coffee.

“Hello to you too, Rafa,” Olivia teased, though she was already walking over to him with a file in her hand.

Rafael sighed and looked at her apologetically. “Sorry, I’m just on edge. I want this all to be over.”

“I know you do.” She smiled at him gently and motioned for him to go over to the couch. “Where are Sonny and Annabelle?”

“The hotel. Annabelle’s coming down with a cold, I didn’t see the point in dragging her out. Part of the detail is back at the hotel, another drove me over.” He sighed and scrubbed his hand across his face, noting the stubble on his face. Dealing with Annabelle’s cold _and_ the fact that Reynolds wanted both him and his husband dead hadn’t left him with much time to shave.

“It can’t be easy to deal with a sick child for the first time under these circumstances.” Olivia gave him a sympathetic smile, her hand moving to rest on his knee. “If you need anything just let me know.”

“We’re fine, I think. She doesn’t have a fever or anything, she’s just tired, grumpy, and sneezing on literally every single thing in the hotel,” Rafael muttered, trying to stifle a yawn. He hadn’t realized just how exhausted he was until sitting on Olivia’s couch. He was used to not sleeping, especially now that he had a daughter, but not sleeping because he was terrified what might happen to either himself, his husband, or his daughter, was an entirely different story. “What can you tell me?”

Liv nodded and leaned back on the couch, making herself comfortable as she opened the file and began to scan it with her eyes. “We’ll need you to do a line-up in a minute, but right now I can tell you that his name is Eric Matthews, petty crook, ran drugs for Reynolds, a few assault charges, along with some drug related charges.”

“Did Reynolds call him from jail? Is he that stupid?”

“Yes and no,” Olivia answered, taking her glasses off and plopping them down on her lap. “He called a payphone from jail. A payphone less than a block from Matthews’ apartment.”

“Can you tie him to this?” Rafael asked. He didn’t have to tell her that the information she’d given him so far was circumstantial at best.

“The phone call alone was pretty damning. Reynolds was surprisingly smart enough not to use any names, but it was clear who he was talking about. Once we have his confession and your ID it’ll be pretty hard to refute,” she said, sounding sure of herself. “He seemed spooked when we picked him up. He ran from Fin and Rollins, immediately lawyered up, and said, and I quote, ‘I didn’t threaten nobody,’ before we even said anything about threats.”

Rafael snorted and shook his head. He would never not be astounded at how stupid some criminals could be. He just never realized how absolutely terrifying the stupid ones could still be until they were threatening him in the middle of a park, only feet away from where his husband had been pushing his daughter on a swing.

“Okay,” Rafael said, nodding his head a little and pushing himself off the couch. “When can I do the line-up?”

It didn’t take long for Liv to get the line-up sorted. He kept trying to tell himself that whatever was on the other end of the window he was about to look through would put everything to rest, but he knew better. This all felt like a detour on a much larger trip, ending in a jury’s verdict.

Rafael couldn’t put into words how much he wanted this all to be over. He’d give anything to just be able to go home and _sleep,_ to lay his head on his husband’s chest and hear his heart beat. He wanted to be reminded that Sonny was alive. S _afe._ Hell, he even wanted to be woken up at three am by Annabelle crawling into bed with them, tucking herself between them after their best efforts to try to get her to go back to her own room. It’d been hard to head the instructions of her therapist, telling them to make sure she slept in her own bed when they were afraid she might not have a bed in their apartment one day.  

He wanted normal, not a line-up and a trial and verdict that would determine the rest of his daughter’s life.

“You ready?” Liv asked, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention. He nodded and followed her to the window, a group of five men standing in a line. “Take your time.”

He almost chuckled at that. He’d heard her say it to so many victims as they’d pointed out their attacker, he’d even heard Rollins say it to him a few years back when he’d been threatened by Heredio. This was different, though. This had nothing to do with his job; he wasn’t getting threatened because he’d prosecuted the “wrong” person, or because he’d dared to indict a police officer. This was because his daughter’s biological father was a maniac that was intent on getting her back, despite not knowing a damn thing about her.

Despite himself, he was getting flashbacks to standing in that exact same spot, pointing out Heredio and finding him smaller than he’d previously thought.

The differences between the death threats then and now continued as he looked through the window, his heart pounding as he got a look at the massive man in the room. Where Heredio looked smaller, Matthews looked larger. The second he looked inside the window, he knew which one had threatened him. He’d seen his face every time he closed his eyes, he’d seen him in every second he’d managed to sleep.

“Number four,” he choked out, taking a breath and looking over to Olivia. She gave him a nod and put her hand on his shoulder gently.

The defense attorney, a public defender who looked like he was about to trip over himself in attempt to get on top of the situation, looked absolutely horrified at the prospect that his client had been identified. He cleared his throat and looked over to Olivia and Rafael, an uneasy grimace on his face. “Do… do you think you could get the DA? I’m sure we can work out a deal.”

“I’m sure you can,” Rafael muttered before turning on his heel and making his way back to Olivia’s office.

She followed him but stopped once she got to her door. “Stone should be here soon to talk deals, but I think Fin and I can get all we need out of Matthews. Once we’re positive you guys are safe, we’ll let you know.”

“If you don’t mind, I might stick around until the interrogation is over,” he said, trying to stifle yet another yawn. “His attorney looked pretty frazzled, I’m sure you’ll be able to get everything you need out of Matthews within the next hour.”

“You doubt that I won’t be able to do it in under thirty minutes?” Olivia teased, giving him a smile. “Are you sure you don’t want to just go back to the hotel? Whatever he says, it’s not going to change the fact that you won’t be able to go back home until we’re one-hundred percent sure he’s working alone.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Rafael said, sitting down on Olivia’s couch. “I’ll feel better if you can just tell me whatever he tells you as soon as possible instead of waiting at home.” He stopped for a second and chuckled a little. “My nervous pacing gets on Sonny’s nerves, anyways.”

Olivia chuckled in turn and pushed herself off the side of the door where she’d been leaning. “I’m sure it does.”

Rafael sat in silence in Olivia’s office for a few minutes before pulling his phone out to check on the situation back at the hotel.

**_How is she?_ **

_about the same, but she’s sleeping finally. thank god. how did the line up go?_

**_As well as line-ups can go. I picked him out immediately. Olivia and Fin are interrogating him, currently. It shouldn’t take too long. His attorney looks like he’s been out of law school for maybe a week. Dollars to donuts this is his first case._ **

_did you really just say dollars to donuts?_

**_THAT’S what you got out of that?_ **

_sorry sorry_

_that’s all good though right? i mean the sooner he’s in jail and they make sure he was working alone the sooner we can go the fuck back home_

_seriously raf the only thing i hate more than the fact that belle is sick is the fact that we have to take care of her in a fucking hotel_

**_I know, me too. It’ll be over soon. I really don’t think Reynolds has many other associates that are willing to go to bat for him._ **

_i hope you’re right_

**_I’m always right._ **

_that’s my line, asshole._

_are you going to wait around the precinct or are you coming back to the hotel?_

**_I’ll wait here. There’s no point in me coming back unless you need me. I’ll just want to turn around and come back the second they’re finished interrogating Matthews._ **

_yeah i get that_

_get some rest while you wait, okay? you looked exhausted when you left_

**_I’m fine._ **

_liiiiaaarrrrr_

**_Fine, I’ll close my eyes while I’m waiting, as long as you promise to do the same._ **

Along with his next text was a picture of Sonny, fake-asleep on the hotel bed with Annabelle sprawled out on his chest. Rafael smiled at the picture, the cold he felt earlier dissipating almost immediately.

_way ahead of you babe_

_i love you_

**_I love you, too._ **

True to his word, Rafael closed his eyes after pocketing his phone. He didn’t really expect himself to fall asleep, but once his eyes were shut and he was finally able to revel in at least a small amount of peace, knowing that whoever had been sent to threaten his family was being interrogated, he was able to nod off to sleep.

For once in the last few days he didn’t feel like he had to catastrophize their situation. He was still rightfully terrified of what was to come, and the potential that Matthews hadn’t been working alone, but he was able to find the smallest bit of peace as he closed his drifted off to sleep on Olivia’s couch.

True to her word, though, the interrogation didn’t last long. He felt himself being gently shaken awake what felt like only minutes after he’d agreed to rest. In reality, it’d just been over an hour. Olivia was sitting next to him on the edge of the couch, her hand on his arm as she tried to wake him up.

He yawned and reached his hand up to rub sleep from his eyes before attempting to address whatever had happened in the interrogation room. “How’d it go?”

“Fairly well. We lied and told him Reynolds had given him up, and that we could try him for conspiracy to murder, and the floodgates opened. Apparently, this isn’t the first time he’s done something like this.”

“The rape victim a couple years back?”

“Yeah, her. And some other minor things. Looks like he was Reynolds’ one-man cleanup crew,” Olivia supplied. “But it was just him.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Believe me, if he had something else to give up, he would’ve. He’s looking at fifteen to twenty, and that’s without the murder. He would’ve done anything to lessen that.”

Rafael nodded and let out a breath. “Please tell me he’s just going to take a plea.”

“Yeah, he is,” Olivia assured him, giving his arm a light squeeze. “Once Reynolds’ trial is over, you’ll all be safe. You won’t have to worry about any of this anymore, you guys can just go back home and be happy again.”

“If he’s found guilty, that is,” Rafael grumbled, looking down at the floor. He hated that whenever someone mentioned the trial and it coming out in their favor he had to reply with _if._ At that point, it was involuntary. All he could think about, all hours of the day, was the prospect of the verdict being _not guilty,_ despite the overwhelming mass of evidence against him.

“Rafa, you gotta stop thinking like that.” Olivia nudged his leg with her own to get him to look at her, which he did, albeit reluctantly. “You know how much evidence there is against him. No one’s going to buy into the evidence planting theory, it’s outrageous and you know it.”

“Yeah, I know it, you know it, but the jury might not. If just one of them have even a sliver of doubt we could…” he stopped short and shook his head. He felt like a broken record. His thoughts had been a mix of fear that he’d lose Annabelle and even more crippling of a fear that she’d end up in the arms of Reynolds. “I can’t help but worry, Liv.”

“I know, I know,” Olivia whispered, her voice calming him slightly.

“The thing is, I don’t understand why Reynolds would even send someone to hurt me and Sonny. In theory, I get it. With us out of the way then maybe the trial can end, maybe he’ll be more likely found not guilty, and then he’d be able to get custody of Annabelle, but… but in reality, it wouldn’t work like that. I don’t know what he was thinking. It all seemed so careless on his part.”

“Honestly?” Liv started, a little humorless chuckle escaping her mouth. “He wasn’t thinking. Neither of them are. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I don’t think Reynolds is a master criminal. He’s messy and angry, which are two things that don’t necessarily make him a great crook, just scary to go up against.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Rafael muttered, looking forward and putting his heads in his hands for a second. Despite having taken a nap, he was exhausted. He wondered if he could go back to the hotel and curl into bed with Sonny and sleep away the stress of the last few days, hell, the last few months.

“I think at this point he’s just grasping at straws, trying to find the best one to use to get back to Annabelle. He can’t have anything else left in his head,” Olivia reassured once more.

Rafael sighed and nodded, his exhaustion threatening to take hold of him once again. “I hope you’re right.”

 

\--

 

They were at the station already when they got the call that the jury was back. It took them one extra day to come back once the threats had been put to rest, but once they did, the entire squad rushed to the courtroom as fast as they could. Sonny met Rafael there, neither of them able to say much to each other. Sonny felt like his heart was going to jump out of his skin, and Rafael looked like he was about to hyperventilate. All in all, it was just as they’d expected the moment to go.

They shuffled into the courtroom, sitting down with Amanda on one side and Rafael on his other. To anyone who’d just glanced at them, he supposed they didn’t much look like a group of police officers and an ADA, but a family awaiting a trial’s response. Starting from Amanda going down to Olivia, it was a chain of hand holding, with Amanda’s hand in Sonny’s, Sonny’s hand in Rafael’s, and Rafael’s in Olivia’s, none of them held the typical court appearance that they normally would.

But nothing about this was _normal._

“Has the jury come to a decision?” the judge asked the forewoman, standing up to face the rest of the court. Ever since Sonny had heard about the forewoman at William Lewis’ trial, the same one who’d helped Rudnick and Yates escape jail, he’d been a little untrustworthy of foremen and women.

But he’d seen the way that particular forewoman had looked at Reynolds during the trial. At one point, he caught her sneering at Reynolds, and another he’d seen her looking at Rafael in the galley with the softest expression you could ever give someone you didn’t know personally. He hoped those feelings resonated throughout the entire jury.

“We have, your honor.”

“What say you?”

“On the count of drug possession and distribution, we the jury find Carson Reynolds, guilty.”

A murmur fell through the galley, but it wasn’t something they weren’t expecting. The drug charges were probably easier to prove than the assault on Rollins, considering he’d had them in his possession at time of arrest, and there’d been testimony to corroborate that he’d sold drugs in the past.

“On the count of assault on a police officer, we the jury find the defendant, guilty.”

Another murmur. Sonny didn’t bother to look over to Reynolds, just kept his eye on the forewoman as he felt both Amanda and Rafael squeeze his hands simultaneously.

“On the count of murder in the first degree, we the jury find—”

His stomach churned. He thought about Annabelle, the way her eyes lit up when she saw him or Rafael. He thought about how her favorite chips were Cheetos. He thought about how she liked vanilla ice cream more than chocolate, but still liked to put chocolate syrup on her ice cream. He thought about how she made them tuck Bee into bed the same as her. He thought about how she liked to ride on Rafael’s shoulders while they were out, something that at first made his husband incredibly nervous but had become second nature over the months. He thought about how she didn’t like chicken tenders but loved chicken nuggets. He thought about how she feared thunder with a passion but thought lightning was pretty. He thought about how she liked to hide behind the couch every night when Sonny came home and jump out at him to greet him, as if he didn’t know she were hiding.

He thought about how despite not having the same blood as him or Rafael, she was still their daughter. He thought about all the times she called for _Daddy_ and meant either him or Rafael. Annabelle didn’t know who Reynolds was beyond being a brief memory in the back of her head, the boogeyman that came and terrified her into hiding in a closet.

Despite what Reynolds thought, Annabelle wasn’t his daughter. He had no claim to her, nothing beyond shared blood. He hadn’t been there for her when she cried because she didn’t understand why she couldn’t see her mommy anymore. He hadn’t been there the first time she slept through the night without crying. He hadn’t been the one who’d bathed and clothed and fed and _loved_ her for the past five months.

Annabelle was Sonny and Rafael’s daughter, that was indisputable.

“— _Guilty.”_

It happened in slow motion, relief hitting him like a sack of bricks. It was over. All of it was over. He could go home with Rafael and their daughter, they could finish out the next seven months with Annabelle as their foster-daughter and then they could adopt her. Only seven months, a home visit or two, a couple signatures, and a visit to a judge stood in between them and adopting their daughter. In comparison to the trial, it felt like nothing.

Sonny barely heard the judge’s _the state of New York thanks you_ speech to the jury. He felt Rafael’s hands on either side of his face, smiling wide and bright before pulling him into a hug. “It’s over,” he heard his husband whisper into his ear, holding him tight in the middle of the courtroom.

“It’s over,” he echoed, tightening his grasp on Rafael. His mind was racing at a mile a minute, it was hard to focus on one thing. All the anxiety had left him at the speed of light, to the point it was hard to grasp that it was over. He thought that maybe he was dreaming, that at any second the boogeyman would be back to continue its course of wreaking havoc on his life.

He felt Amanda’s hand on his back, giving him a congratulatory pat on the back as the judge banged her gavel a few times to calm the court. This was real. This wasn’t the calm before the storm in a nightmare he hadn’t awoken from yet. It was just as it appeared to be.

“Mr. Reynolds, you are remanded to Rikers pending sentencing.”

The court officer made his way over to collect Reynolds, cuffing him and starting to take him out of the room. For the first time since the trial started, Sonny made eye contact with Reynolds. His fixed glare on both him and his husband shot a chill up Sonny’s spine; he’d never been looked at with that amount of visceral hatred before.

“You’ll regret this!” Reynolds screamed, trying to jerk out of the officer’s clutches. “No one is taking my daughter from me, _no one._ This isn’t over, I’m getting my fucking daughter back, I’ll—”

“ _Mr. Reynolds!”_ the judge called, banging her gavel a few times, as it would do anything to stop his maniacal screaming. “Get him out of here,” she instructed. The officer nodded and pulled him along through the side door. The whole way, Reynolds screamed about how Sonny and Rafael would regret taking his daughter from them.

“It was an empty threat,” Olivia assured them, giving Sonny a pat on the shoulder. Rafael had yet to let go of Sonny, holding onto him like it was all he could do, just like he had during the trial. “Reynolds is going to jail for the rest of his life. Between what he was found guilty of and that little outburst, there’s no way the judge will grant any leniency.”

Sonny nodded and felt as Rafael’s hand lowered to his side, rubbing gentle circles into his side. “It’s over,” Rafael repeated, nodding in the direction of Sonny. “We can go home. Finally.”

Home.

At home, awaited Annabelle, recovering from her cold, being watched by Rafael’s mother. Her own home, with two parents who loved her. The more he thought about it, the more it warmed his heart. The rush of the day—between the verdict and Reynolds’ outburst—had shot adrenaline through Sonny’s body. He felt like he could run to the tallest building nearby and scream to the world how happy he was, how perfect his life was. He had a husband who loved him, a daughter who was getting healthier and happier every day, he had friends who stood by him through thick and thin.

And most importantly, Annabelle had a home.

 

\--

 

Noah and Liv’s presence at Rafael’s door was something that always put a smile on his face. Smiling was something he’d been doing a lot of recently. It was hard to be grumpy when his daughter was such a shining beacon in his life; that was multiplied by the fact that there wasn’t much in the way of Annabelle’s adoption going through. Between the trial’s outcome and the fact that there were no relatives on either side of her biological family that were either alive or fit for raising a child, it was an easy solution for Annabelle to stay with the only stable parents she’d ever known.

It was still such a strange thing for Rafael when he thought about it for more than a couple of passing seconds. While he’d been able to slip into fatherhood semi-naturally—not that it had been easy—it was still _odd_ for him to think about. He’d never thought that his life would be like this; he never expected himself to be a father, much less be happier than he’d ever been in his entire life as a father.

Liv and Noah, standing holding hands outside his door, were a welcome sight. A couple of months ago, before Annabelle, Noah would’ve looked out of place in their apartment. Before they had a child of their own, their apartment always looked somewhat put together. At least, it looked like the apartment of two childless adults. Now, not only was it toddler proofed, it was often a mess of kids’ toys, stuffed animals, and various articles of toddler clothes that had either yet to be washed or had been thrown off by Annabelle for whatever reason. There were also always little socks either pushed between couch cushions, behind the book case, in the fish tank, and once, in his briefcase, which he hadn’t found until during a meeting with the DA. Rafael had no idea what that child had against socks, and it might’ve been cuter if not for the fact he was tired of buying her new socks only to find five pairs scattered throughout the house within the next two days.

Sock issues aside, their apartment was relatively clean now. At least, it was clean considering they had a three-year-old with more energy than either of them had put together. That being said, a seven-year-old and five-year-old—Amanda and Jesse had already arrived—didn’t look so out of place anymore.

“Hi Uncle Rafa!” Noah greeted, a huge smile on his face. The nickname had started back when Noah was still a toddler and couldn’t pronounce his name fully, and the fact that it had stuck, not only with Noah, but with Liv too, always made him feel a bit warm inside.

“Hey!” he returned the greeting, stepping out of the way for Noah and Liv to make their way into the apartment. Noah’s smile was wide and giddy in only the way children could accomplish. He’d already started to pull off his coat and hand it to Liv before rushing in to give Rafael a hug, which he gratefully returned.

“Thanks for coming,” he said in Liv’s direction. He knew that there was no way she’d miss their little impromptu celebration over the verdict, but he still felt the need to thank her.

“You know I wouldn’t miss it.” She echoed what he already knew, a smile on her face to match her son’s. “Noah, you wanna go play with Jesse and Annabelle while I talk with Uncle Rafa?”

Noah nodded, giving Rafael a quick hug before he took off into the living room, full of energy and childlike glee. Noah obviously had no idea what the impromptu celebration was for, but his excitement seemed to match how everyone in the apartment was feeling. The weight of the world had just been lifted from Rafael and Sonny’s shoulders; never again did they have to worry about Annabelle’s biological father coming to take their daughter from them. They wouldn’t have to worry that they’d be fighting with courts for the rest of their lives to make sure Annabelle would stay with them and not go to a different foster family, or even worse, to Reynolds himself. They just had to wait a few more months and everything would be official.

It was a relief, to say the least.

“How are you feeling?” Liv asked, putting her and Noah’s jackets alongside Jesse and Amanda’s.

“It’s hard to explain, honestly,” he admitted. He walked further into the apartment and leaned against the wall so he could watch Annabelle play with Jesse and Noah but still be out of the way. “Between the threats and the trial, it’s just been a whirlwind of anxiety. I didn’t know how the trial was going to end; for all we knew we could’ve lost her, Reynolds could’ve gotten off on a technicality, the jury could’ve been complete idiots and actually bought into Braun’s hairbrained idea that Sonny set all this up just so he could keep Annabelle.”

He shook his head a little and tore his eyes from Annabelle, who was currently attempting to help Jesse build something with Legos with the help of Sonny and looked over to Liv. Her own sights were set on Noah, who was rattling off some story about something that happened at school to Amanda. He found it humorous to think that if they were gathered together a couple years ago, they would have undoubtedly been at Forlini's, getting drunk and talking about whatever case was at hand. Now? Now they were huddled in Sonny and Rafael’s apartment, their kids playing with Legos, Paw Patrol playing quietly on the TV, and the strongest drink being consumed in the house being Jesse’s chocolate milk.

It was weird how much could change in a couple of years.

“I feel like this is all a dream and I’m gonna wake up and she’s not going to be here anymore,” he admitted, his eyes set on Liv. “Is that crazy?”

Liv looked over at him and gave him a sympathetic smile. “Not at all. I felt like that when I first adopted Noah. The first few weeks were madness and such an adjustment that I didn’t even have time to think about it, but once everything calmed down, and after Johnny D was killed, I felt the same way.” She reached over and put her hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “You know, just because something good has happened, doesn’t mean it’s going to go away. Sometimes good things do last, sometimes happiness stays with you.”

Rafael fought the urge to be melodramatic and respond with something like _not in my experience._ His life might have been exponentially happier in the last few years, but it didn’t change the fact that he was still a pragmatist and tended to catastrophize things. In his experience, things didn’t stay happy. He wasn’t sure if he should chalk that line of thinking up to his work or his troublesome childhood, or maybe a mix of both, but he never could quite rid himself of the feeling that one day the sky might fall on his head.

“You’re right,” he gave in, letting out a breath and looking over at Annabelle. “At least, I hope you are.”

“I’m proud of you, you know,” she said, her eyes once again back on Noah. Rafael could make out bits and pieces of the story he was telling Rollins; something about a dog he got to see while out with Lucy.

“Yeah?” he answered simply, thoughts fixed on the kids playing in front of him. Jesse was attempting to braid Annabelle’s hair now, something that might’ve made Annabelle jump out of her skin three months back. Now, she sat calmly with Bee in her lap and let Jesse’s little fingers make a rather poor but rather cute attempt of pulling her long red hair into a braid.

“Yeah,” Liv repeated. “The first time you held Noah you looked like I’d given you radioactive material.”

“You thrust a baby in my hands without any warning and I had court later that day, I didn’t want him throwing up all over me. That’s not a good look to a jury,” he tried to defend himself. In truth, he’d just been startled and completely unaware as to what he was supposed to even do with a child. He was lucky he got more practice with Sonny’s niece, Noah, and even Jesse before somewhat unknowingly being thrust into fatherhood.

As Rafael glanced over at her he caught her rolling her eyes, but he also saw the smile on her face. “All I’m saying is you went from being one of the most clueless people in the world when it came to what to do with kids to being an amazing father. Just take the compliment.”

“Fine, fine,” he said, smirking a bit. He did appreciate her words, and he knew deep down that they were true, but it also didn’t stop him from worrying constantly about how good a parent he’d be. It was always in the back of his head, always scratching the back of his brain and making him stop whatever he was doing and just _think._ Was he doing the right thing? Would he be a good enough father? Was he helping Annabelle overcome everything she’d been through enough? Should he be doing _more?_ Should—

“Daddy, daddy, look!” His bordering on anxiety attack was cut short by Annabelle running over to him, Jesse in tow. “Jesse did my hair,” she informed him. Her once neatly combed hair had been tied in every which way with every hair tie the two had been able to find, had a Lego in it, two of Jesse’s butterfly clips attached to the ends, and sat more on top of her head than falling down her back as usual. He knew it would be hell to undo later and Annabelle would most _definitely_ have a fit at the number of tangles it had produced, but currently it was making her smile, so he wasn’t going to think about the aftermath too much.

He was, however, going to hope to God Sonny would give Annabelle her bath tonight. His husband was infinitely better at dealing with Annabelle’s hair than he was, having grown up with three sisters and all.

“I see that,” he responded, a smile on his face to match her own. He could see Rollins giving him a somewhat apologetic in not entirely amused look from across the room, but he couldn’t find it within him to care, upon seeing the joy in Annabelle’s face. “It’s very pretty. Could she do mine?”

“You don’t have enough hair, silly,” Annabelle responded. Both her and Jesse were giggling at that before Jesse grabbed her hand and pulled her back to Sonny and Amanda. This time, they’d switched positions, Annabelle starting to wrack her fingers through Jesse’s hair.

Olivia and Rafael joined everyone else in the living room, Olivia sitting next to Amanda on the loveseat—to absolutely no one’s surprise—and Rafael next to Sonny. He leaned against Sonny’s side and watched as the kids played, carrying on casual conversation with Amanda and Olivia as they did. It was another thing that Rafael was surprised at how _natural_ it felt. He used to think it must’ve been terribly boring for Olivia and Amanda when they got together to let Jesse and Noah play. He’d thought playdates must’ve been the most painful thing in the world for the parents, but it turned out it was enough just to be in the presence of his friends, to lean against his husband’s chest and occasionally be used as a jungle gym by his overly-energetic daughter.

Ten years ago, he might’ve looked at someone with a life like his and scoffed at it being his. He’d have found it contrite and boring, not at all for him, but now that it _was_ his life, he couldn’t imagine it being any different.

As Sonny ran his hands through his hair in the way he did without even realizing, Annabelle trying to balance herself on his legs with Rafael’s hands steadying her so she wouldn’t fall, Noah and Jesse playing in a small playhouse set up in the corner of the room, and Amanda and Olivia flirting in a way that they’d never admit to actually being flirting, Rafael couldn’t help but to feel the warmth in his soul spread throughout his body. He’d never really had much of a family before; sure, he had his mother, and his abuelita, and he loved the two infinitely and would be forever grateful for their positive presence in his life, but the rest of his family had been…

_Messy._

His father had talked with his fist more so than his mouth. Rafael had been acutely aware of the fact that his father didn’t much care for him at a young age. It was an unnerving, altogether sickening feeling, knowing his own father hated him. Rafael was never quite sure why exactly his father had been so averse to his mere existence; by the time he was thirteen, he’d narrowed it down to his big mouth, his refusing to follow in his father’s footsteps—i.e., be the macho, stereotypical man he was “supposed” to be, instead of caring more about studying and the world around him than his masculinity—and his refusal to sit by and watch his father beat his mother without at least _attempting_ to step in.

His father finding him kissing a boy at the age of seventeen had been the final nail in the coffin; at least his father had an excuse as to why he hated his son so much after that.

The rest of his family—various cousins, aunts, uncles, etc.—had varying degrees of a non-relationship with Rafael. Some were kind to him, maybe even liked him to some degree, but were too far removed from his life for him to ever bother having a real relationship with. Others were cordial towards him when he did have to interact with them—the occasional wedding, funeral, etc.—but he knew they disliked him for whatever reason, whether it be his personality, profession or the whole _married to a man_ thing. There’d been plenty of snide remarks from that portion of the family, telling him he was going to hell, how his life was a sin, God was going to rain fire down upon his house… normal family things. The rest had flat out refused to talk to him once they found out he was gay, which only multiplied when he’d gotten married. The fact that he had the audacity to adopt a child with his husband wasn’t something that those particular people in his family was crazy over either.

Sonny had always had a different relationship with his family. They were closer, genuinely liked each other, and talked to each other out of actual love, not responsibility. Even after Sonny came out to his parents—who hadn’t been altogether pleased with the fact their son was bisexual—they stayed in his life, continued to love him despite the fact they weren’t totally on board with him being attracted to guys. Rafael had been aware the first time he met Sonny’s parents that they weren’t crazy about the idea that their son was in a long-term relationship with another man, but regardless, they treated him well. After they were married, they even—though somewhat reluctantly—considered him a part of the family.

The Carisis were a different kind of family to what he was used to, that was for sure. They’d accepted him into their home—Sonny’s sisters more so than his parents and _definitely_ more so than his grandparents, who still referred to him as Sonny’s roommate—it wasn’t _his_ family. Not really. 

Long story short, besides his mother and abuelita, his family had always been best described as messy. Rafael didn’t do well with unnecessary mess, so he hadn’t bothered to be the one to mend any fences when it came to his family. Them hating him for things out of his control—his sexuality, his profession, the fact he hadn’t been to mass since he was twenty—wasn’t something he was going to worry himself over. His mother loved and accepted him—there’d been a grace period of her getting used to the fact that he was gay, of course—and his abuelita—who’d never needed the grace period, he assumed she knew he was gay before he did—loved him. That was the only family he’d needed.

Up until now, that is. As he watched the kids playing, felt Sonny’s body warm against his, heard Olivia and Amanda talking— _flirting—_ together, he realized that this was his family.

And a damn good one, at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all i can say about the last half of the story is this vine. enjoy
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5WbFb_Hi3E


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back at it again boys
> 
> sorry it took me so long to update i had a bunch of school work and personal shit so i had absolutely no time nor energy to edit this chapter or write anymore up until this week. on the bright side, there's only one more chapter left for me to write, so hopefully i won't take anymore long breaks after this (don't hold me to that though). 
> 
> also i did change my username bc this has sorta become My Brand and i'm not as into taz as much as svu these days so. but i change my username a lot tbh i'm surprised it took me this long to change it for ao3
> 
> anyways, enjoy! leave a comment, kudo, etc. and feel free to follow me on tumblr/twitter!  
> \- twitter: @rrafaelbarba  
> \- tumblr: www.rrafaelbarba.tumblr.com

Rafael hated Mondays. It wasn’t just in the typical _I miss the weekend_ kind of way, either—though he had to admit, staying home with Sonny and Annabelle was _much_ preferable to being in the office—it had more to do with the incredible amount of paperwork he always walked into on Mondays. He wished, just for once, criminals would take the weekend off so he could spend time with both his husband _and_ daughter without one of them being called into work, or at the very least, so he wouldn’t be greeted with a mound of papers to sign or read first thing in the morning. 

            As he sat, coffee in one hand, phone in the other, he let himself look at his workspace. His eyes lingered on the pictures decorating his desk; there weren’t many, just a picture from his wedding, a family photo taken by Liv, and a picture Sonny took of Annabelle on her birthday. It seemed numerous in comparison to what his desk looked like when he first started working with SVU. Back then, the only personal thing on his desk was his nameplate; it was a testament to how much his life had changed in what felt like such a short amount of time.

He didn’t used to like to mix his work with his personal life, not that he had much of a personal life before. Considering one of his colleagues ended up becoming his husband and was in the process of adopting a girl said husband had rescued on the job, he guessed keeping his personal life and work life was a moot point now. It wasn’t exactly a secret that him and Sonny were married, and if anyone didn’t know before the trial seven months ago, they knew now. An ADA and a detective adopting a little girl the latter had found in a closet during a case seemed to be all anyone could talk about for months. He lost count of how many sideways looks he got walking down the hallways of One Hogan Place, though they never really bothered him in the first place.

His contemplation over the photos on his desk and his life before and after Sonny and Annabelle was cut off before it even really started with his door opening. He wasn’t surprised to look up and see Rita walk into his office and make herself comfortable across from him.

“You ever hear of knocking?” he asked, pretending to look like he was working on something instead of staring at the picture of him, Sonny, and Annabelle that Liv had taken on Halloween. Rafael couldn’t fight back the smile as he looked at Annabelle’s raggedy Anne costume, though she insisted on calling herself raggedy Annabelle for a week before and after Halloween. It was as adorable as it was hilarious to hear her introduce herself to every single person she’d encountered.

The fact that she was able to talk to people outside her small circle of family was a relief to Rafael. A mix of regular and speech therapy and what Sonny insisted was divine intervention—though Rafael wasn’t sure how much he bought into that one—had helped Annabelle immensely. She still had issues with anxiety and had the occasional nightmare, but more or less, she acted like a normal four-year-old. She was still young, though. Rafael hated to always be the negative one (or so he claimed), but he couldn’t help but fear how that anxiety and the life she’d been exposed to before them would affect her when she was older.

“Nope.” Rita crossed her legs in her seat across from him. Her smug expression didn’t sit well with him.

“Can you at least give me enough time to finish my coffee before you throw whatever it is that’s got you looking so smug at me?” He leaned back in his seat and took a sip of his lukewarm coffee, keeping his gaze set on Rita. She still sat across from him, same smirk, same smugness, as she turned her phone over in her hand a couple times. “You’re making me nervous, Rita.”

“Good,” she mused. “You know you don’t have a case.”

He sighed and looked down at the file in front of him. The case SVU had been working finally came back to him and he let himself slip into work mode. He flipped it open and scanned it for a second before looking back up to Rita. Not that he’d ever admit it to her, but she was right. The victim wasn’t cooperating, and he doubted compelling her testimony would help their case, the suspect was charming, there was no outcry, no DNA… classic he said/she said, except she wasn’t saying anything anymore. At this point all he could do was hope the detectives would do their due diligence and bring him _something_ that he could try.

“I’m willing to talk plea.”

“You should be willing to drop the charges. They’re baseless.”

It was too early for this.

Despite popular opinion, he really did like Rita. She was one of his oldest friends, and though their careers went in polar opposite directions, usually pitting them against each other, he considered her to be one of his closest and dearest friends. They’d been there for each other through tumultuous college relationships and breakups, late nights studying for exam after exam, and later the bar. He’d been there for her when her parents found out—or more accurately, _freaked_ out _—_ when she came out to them, she’d been there when his father was on his death bed and he was struggling with how to feel about the son of a bitch dying. All in all, she was one of the constants in his life. No matter how different they were, he knew they’d always be friends.

However, those warm feelings he knew she shared didn’t only applied to times she wasn’t in his office or going against her in court. Days like that made him miss being in his twenties, running on two hours of sleep, too many cups of coffee, and cramming for an final in her cramped dorm room.

They squabbled back and forth for a few minutes about the case before eventually agreeing to disagree. Rafael had a feeling Rita would convince him into pleading this down if they didn’t get another victim, anyways.

“So,” Rita said after their legal conversation had come to a close. “How’s your daughter?”

It was always weird to hear _your daughter_ come out of Rita’s mouth in reference to him, especially considering they’d come to a mutual agreement in college to never have kids or get married, to just focus on their careers. Of course, they were in their early twenties at the time, full of ambition and alcohol, but it was still a strange intersection.

“She’s doing really good,” Rafael answered, putting his pen down and looking over at the picture of her from Halloween again. Sonny had thought he was so damn clever coming up with the Raggedy Anne costume, but when it came down to it, it was adorable, especially coupled with Jesse’s cowgirl and Noah’s dinosaur costume. “Why?”

“I’m not allowed to ask my friend how his kid is doing?” Rita asked, mock offense in her voice.

Rafael rolled his eyes. “Forgive me, you asking how other people are is strange. Sometimes I forget you aren’t a robot.”

“You’re one to talk,” she shot back. She paused for a few seconds and let her demeanor soften, giving him a small smile. “Seriously, Rafael, I’m glad she’s doing well. I never doubted she would, but…”

“But?”

Rita shrugged and fidgeted in her seat. “I told you Reynolds tried to hire me as his defense, right?” Rafael nodded. “I only had one call with the man, and…” she paused, it looked as if a wave of nausea was hitting her, making her uneasy and fidgety; it was an odd look on her.

Rafael didn’t blame her, though. Every time he as much as thought of Reynolds his fists balled up and he felt his insides catch fire. Annabelle would be in her mid-twenties by the time he even got a chance for parole, but Rafael still felt like he was on the defensive whenever Reynolds came up.

Luckily for Annabelle, she didn’t remember a lot about her life before he and Sonny had started fostering her. She didn’t know who her biological father was—they knew they’d have to have the conversation with her one day, but that was too far down the line to think about while she was still in pre-school—and she barely remembered her mother. She never referred to Rachel as her mother anymore, just _that mean lady._

Rafael was thankful that she was so resilient, or maybe her little brain had started to repress all the terrible memories to make room for better ones, leaving bits of anxiety in it’s place. He wasn’t sure which one he wanted to go with.

“I’ve represented accused serial killers, rapists, you name it, but there was something… _cold_ about Reynolds. The phone call was less than ten minutes long but the entire time he kept talking about how he needed to get his daughter back. He didn’t outright say it, but I got the impression he thought Annabelle belonged to him _.”_ Rafael could see Rita’s knuckles turning white as she gripped onto her cellphone. She looked visibly shaken, her skin a shade paler than normal. “I told him I couldn’t represent him because of a conflict of interest, that I couldn’t represent him because you were my friend, and he just… _exploded_. I had to hang up on him, I could feel his anger from the other side of the phone.”

She’d told him that he’d attempted to hire her on as counsel, but she’d never told him this much. “He’s away now,” Rafael reassured, though it was directed towards himself rather than Rita. 

She sighed, a sound of relief, and then stood up from her seat. She looked down at Rafael with a gentleness he rarely saw from her and gave him a short nod. “You know, despite you betraying our agreement we made in college, I’m glad your life turned out this way.”

He huffed a laughter and looked up at his friend from his chair. He and Rita might have had a weird friendship, one that most people were either surprised by or flat out didn’t understand without knowing their history, but at the end of the day, she was his friend.

“Thank you, I—” His phone rang and cut him off from continuing. It was for the best, anyways. Neither of them did well with long, drawn-out, displays of affection or expressions of emotions. He put his finger out as a silent _hold on_ before answering.

“Barba,” he answered, sitting up in his chair. He hadn’t bothered to check the caller ID, just assuming it was Liv calling him with information on their case.

 _God_ did he wish it had been Liv calling him with information on their case.

 

\--

 

Sonny had been late to work that morning. It wasn’t his fault, really, but that didn’t change the fact that Amanda was looking at him with an unimpressed expression as he all but ran up to her at the apartment of one of their suspect’s previous victims.

“Sorry,” he muttered, walking up to her. “We got all the way downstairs before Annabelle realized she had to go to the bathroom, so we had to go back upstairs, and then I realized I left her lunchbox on the table when we went back in, so we had to go back up again, and then—”

“I get it, I get it,” Amanda cut him off, putting her hand up to stop him from rambling. “Joys of parenthood.”

“At least we’re past her having a meltdown every time we try and drop her off at school. Now it’s just normal stuff,” Sonny said, relief setting in his chest. He’d take normal childhood antics over meltdowns and screaming for _daddy_ the second he walked away any day. Annabelle had come so far in the almost-year they’d fostered her. She still had issues, but she was well on her way to being like any other little girl, ones that didn’t spend the first three years of their life neglected and abused.

He tried not to think about that time in his daughter’s life.

“I’m glad,” Amanda said, giving him a smile and patting his back.

They made their way up to the victim’s apartment, comfortable silence following them up the three flights of stairs. Sonny knew they would be in for it talking to the victim; charges weren’t filed after she’d made her statement, and she ended up moving from her apartment, changing jobs, getting married, the whole nine yards. She wasn’t the same person she was when she was raped, and he doubted she’d want to talk about that time in her life. He didn’t blame her, but she was their only hope of getting their suspect in jail. All his other victims had either died, moved too far away, or the statute had run out.

She answered the door—which Sonny was grateful, he didn’t want to bring her husband into this if she didn’t want him involved—and gave them a quizzical look. Her blonde hair was up in a messy bun atop her head, matching what appeared to be running clothes. She looked as normal as any other women he’d see walking down the street. That was one thing about the job, it was always so surprising to see how _normal_ everyone looked, even after going through something so traumatic. Sonny often found himself wondering how many people he walked passed on a day to day basis that had been traumatized the way the woman in front of him had been.

Then he’d find himself wondering if people passing by them had any clue what Annabelle had been through. To any passerby, she probably looked like a normal little girl out with her dads. Not a little girl who’d been through hell before she’d even reached kindergarten.

“Mrs. Sinclair?” Amanda said as the door opened. “NYPD.”

She looked back and forth between them in silence for a few seconds before letting out a sigh. “It’s about _him_ isn’t it?” she asked, her voice full of resignation.

Sonny gave her a small, sympathetic, smile. “Yeah, it is. Can we come in?”

She sighed and nodded, opening her door for them to come in. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Charges were never even filed.” Her voice was defensive, as was her stance as she finally settled in her apartment, leaning against the island counter that adjoined her living room and kitchen. “I heard he was arrested again. Can’t you just… I don’t know. Get him on the current rape?”

“Not necessarily,” Amanda answered. “If you talk to us and tell you what happened with you, though, it might be able to help us.”

Sonny felt his phone ring in his pocket. Across his phone was a number he didn’t recognize, covering the picture of Rafael and Annabelle from her birthday a month ago. Considering he was in the apartment of a victim, he fought the urge to smile at her cake covered face and the smile that graced his husband’s face. He pressed ignore and looked back to the victim.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she responded, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “I told the officers everything I could at the time…”

“But?” Sonny asked, noticing her hesitance. She wasn’t making eye contact anymore, her eyes downtrodden, staring at the tiled floor like it would offer her the key to recovery.

“But… they said it wasn’t worth investigating. I tried to get them to pursue it but…” she paused again and took a deep breath. Sonny hated making people relive the worst days of their lives repeatedly, even if it was for the greater good. It was hard to believe that sometimes as he watched a victim trying their best to steady themselves, to not have a flashback, just to help them with their case. “I was drunk that night… and I went out with the intention of sleeping with someone, but… I didn’t want _that._ I didn’t want to be raped.”

“We know, Mrs. Sinclair,” Amanda assured her, gentle and reassuring. “We know this is hard for you, and those officers should have pursued it. But if you help us, testify maybe, then we can make that right.”

Sonny’s phone went off again. He looked down and saw that it was Rafael, his name popping up with his contact picture, one he’d taken of him almost four years ago on their honeymoon. It was his favorite picture of him, all smiles and mid-laughter. Again, he fought the urge to smile in the middle of a victim’s apartment. He canceled the call and reminded himself to call his husband back when they were finished with the interview.

“Just because you were drunk or had the intention of having sex that night doesn’t mean he had the right to do that to you,” Sonny added. “The same goes for our current victim.”

“Mrs. Sinclair—”

“Molly,” the woman corrected, sniffling a little and bringing her hand up to rub at her eyes. “Are you sure it’s the same guy?”

“Yeah, we are.”

Sonny’s phone went off yet again, right before he was about to continue talking to Molly about her assault. Amanda looked back at him, a look that screamed _really?_ He sighed and looked down at his phone again. Rafael, once again. “Sorry, I have to take this,” he said, giving Molly an apologetic look as he started for the door.

“Raf, I’m at a victim’s apartment, can I—” he started as he answered the phone, stepping outside the apartment. He didn’t get a chance to finish, however, his husband quickly cutting in.

“Where are you? Is Annabelle with you?” Rafael asked, his voice erratic. Worry instantly pitted itself in Sonny’s stomach. He hadn’t ever heard Rafael’s voice so terrified and urgent before.

“What? No, I dropped her off at pre-school like an hour and a half ago. Amanda and I are talking to Molly Sinclair about—”

“You didn’t answer your phone earlier,” Rafael said, panic rising in his voice. Sonny didn’t have to be in the room with him to tell that his husband was on the verge of a panic attack. “Fuck, this isn’t happening. This isn’t happening, this can’t be happening, fuck—”

In the background, Sonny could hear someone else talking. The voice was familiar, but he couldn’t quite make out who it was or what they were saying. What he could hear was Rafael hyperventilating, only repeating _fuck_ and _this can’t be happening._

“Raf, _Raf,_ Sweetie, what’s happening?” Sonny urged, his own voice becoming more desperate as the second passed. “Is Annabelle okay?”

_Please let her be okay._

Rafael didn’t answer, but he heard someone else take the phone from him. “It’s okay, it’ll be okay,” the voice— _Rita_?—comforted Rafael before turning attention to the phone. “Sonny?”

“Rita? What the hell is happening, what’s wrong with—?”

“Detective Carisi, listen to me,” Rita said, her own voice full of concern. If Rita was frazzled over the situation—whatever the hell that situation was—then something serious must’ve happened. Sonny had never seen Rita be anything more than a terrifying force of nature, both in and out of the courtroom. To hear her voice full of anxiety made Sonny’s heart race. “Carson Reynolds escaped from jail.”

 

\--

 

Rafael barely remembered getting to the 16th precinct, barely remembered being ushered into Liv’s office, barely remembered sitting down, and he definitely didn’t remember Rita taking his hand and holding it tight. All he remembered were the words said to him on the other side of his phone after his conversation with Rita.

_“We’re calling you to inform you that your foster-daughter’s biological father, Carson Reynolds, has escaped jail.”_

He felt sick. All he could think of was the rage he’d seen from Reynolds during the trial, the pure, unadulterated hatred Reynolds had towards him and Sonny for fostering Annabelle. His brain was on a constant loop of _this wasn’t happening_ mixed with an overwhelming urge to hold his daughter and make sure she was safe. Reynolds’ words during the trial— _no one is taking my daughter from me, no one. This isn’t over, I’m getting my fucking daughter back_ —rang in his head like a bell being struck over and over again.

The bullpen behind him was pandemonium. He vaguely recalled Olivia motioning for Rita to take Rafael to her office, all the while giving instructions to unis. He remembered the words _manhunt,_ he remembered Fin giving him a look of sympathy, he remembered feeling like one-hundred eyes were on him, but he couldn’t linger on it. All he could think about was his daughter.

He’d heard Rita tell Sonny that she was going to take Rafael to the precinct, telling him to pick Annabelle up and meet them there. Amidst the chaos in his brain, Rafael found himself feeling grateful for Rita’s presence. Between hearing Reynolds had escaped and the subsequent anxiety of not being able to get ahold of Sonny immediately, he’d had a panic attack; if she hadn’t been there to calm him down enough to get him to the precinct or to inform his husband what was going on, Rafael thought he might still be doubled over on the couch of his office.

Olivia finally made her way into her office and sat down across from Rafael and Rita.

“Rafa—”

“How?” It was all he could manage to get out at the moment, his mind still moving too fast to make any longer of a coherent sentence.

Olivia sighed and took her glasses off, letting them fall next to her long-abandoned cup of coffee. “They found two guards killed, one strangled and another shot. He stole one of their uniforms then left in a prison transport vehicle.” She pressed her lips into a thin line for a moment before continuing. “Fin’s going to Rikers now to see if they can give him anything useful. We’ll go through calls and visitors to see if we find anything.”

Rafael nodded and felt Rita squeeze his hand. “I’m assuming you’ll be putting a protective detail on Rafael, Sonny, and Annabelle?” Rita asked.

“Again,” Rafael added, shaking his head and letting out a short, incredulous laugh. “ _God,_ this can’t be happening. Once he was away, we were supposed to be safe. We kept telling ourselves that once he was in jail we wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore, we’d never had to worry about him hurting us or Belle but…” he trailed off and shook his head. He felt like he was in a nightmare and suffering from sleep paralysis; unable to move away from the demon crawling steadily back into his life to wreak havoc.

Olivia gave him a compassionate look, her brown eyes full of concern for him. “We’ve already made the call. As soon as Sonny gets back, we’ll get you guys squared away in a hotel where you’ll be safe.”

Rafael noticed as Olivia talked how she looked up and behind where he and Rita sat. He turned to see Chief Dodds walking into the bullpen and over to the office the three sat. He couldn’t say he was particularly pleased to see the man. It wasn’t that he disliked him—or liked him, for that matter—but he knew what his presence meant. He didn’t want Reynolds’ capture to be politicized, and Chief Dodds’ attendance in the matter meant just that.

“Vulture,” Rita grumbled under her breath before Dodds made it into the room.

“An ADA and a detective’s daughter’s sociopath of a biological father is on the lose,” Rafael choked out. It was a mouthful, and one he hated at that. “1PP is probably tripping over themselves to put this to bed. They don’t care that this is our _fucking_ life they’re dealing with.”

Olivia gave him a soft look, letting her hand brush against his shoulder briefly as she crossed the room to open the door for Dodds. “Chief Dodds.”

He nodded at her and made his way into the room. “Counselor, I’m so sorry about—”

“Save it,” he snapped. He was too anxious about the situation to care about the cutting edge of his voice. “Tell me you’re going to do everything within your power to get the son of a bitch back in Rikers.”

“We are,” Dodds assured him. His voice was sincere, as was his expression. Rafael was suddenly reminded that Dodds was a father, too, one all too familiar with how easy it can be to lose a child.

Rafael closed his eyes and willed himself to calm down enough to have an intelligent conversation. “Thank you.”

“Is your daughter on her way?” Dodds asked, walking over to the desk and standing next to Rafael.

Rafael nodded. “Yeah, she should be. My husband said he was going to pick her up, he was about forty-five minutes away from her school when I called, but with his driving, it’ll be twenty.”

Dodds let out a sigh of relief and nodded. “When she gets here, I want the three of you gone. I know it’ll be hard for him, but we can’t have Detective Carisi on this case.”

Rafael huffed and shook his head. That might have been the understatement of the century. If he knew Sonny—and he did, better than anyone—he knew he’d have to drag Sonny away from the case to keep him off it. Sonny would want to stick around and make sure he saw Reynolds apprehended first hand. He would have a hard time believing that it was truly over without seeing it with his own eyes, and while Rafael understood that, it didn’t mean he wanted Sonny to work the case. Right now, all he wanted was to go home with his husband and daughter and be _safe._

He’d settle for a hotel room.

Again.

“I understand,” Rafael responded, nodding in Dodds’ direction. He opened his mouth to keep talking but was cut off with the ring of his phone. Sonny’s name flashed across the screen, bringing Rafael a moment of comfort. “That’s him now.”

“Hey,” Rafael answered the phone. “Are you on your way to the station?”

“No, fuck, Raf, no, you didn’t pick Annabelle up for some reason, did you?” Sonny asked. His accent was thicker than normal, a sign that he was under duress. The same knot was beginning to form in Rafael’s stomach as had before.

“No, no, Rita told you to do that,” Rafael said, straightening up in his chair. “Sonny, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know, they said someone else picked her up. They said it was a woman so- _fuck,_ so I assumed it was you and Rita. I don’t know. Fuck, I don’t know where she is, I—”

_This isn’t happening._

_This isn’t happening._

_This can’t be happening._

_Not to us._

_Not to her._

“Okay, okay, Sweetheart, calm down,” Rafael tried, though he doubted it would work. He could feel his own fear and panic rearing their ugly heads, threatening to take him once again. He could tell everyone in the room was staring at him as he spoke to Sonny. Dodds and Rita looked at him in confusion, but Liv…

She knew. She’d been through this. She _knew_.

“How the _fuck_ am I supposed to calm down, Rafael? Someone that wasn’t you or I picked up our daughter and I don’t know where the hell she is!”

“I’ll call Maria,” Rafael said, referencing their nanny as he took his turn in being the levelheaded one. It wasn’t easy, considering the overwhelming doom he felt bearing down on him, but he had to hold onto the smallest sliver of hope that something other than the obvious had transpired. “You call your sisters and I’ll call our parents. Maybe one of them picked her up and forgot to tell us, or we forgot something, or…” he trailed off, taking a deep breath and letting it out before continuing. “Just call them before we freak out.”

He heard Sonny take a deep breath just as he had. “Okay, okay, I will.”

They both hung up at the same time and Rafael shot up from his seat, dialing the number to their nanny with shaking hands. He was pushing back the urge to throw up, to scream, to cry, to yell at everyone in the room to _do something._ He kept telling himself that it had to be a mistake, that maybe he forgot that Annabelle had a doctor’s appointment that his nanny was taking her to— _that would never happen, we always take her to the doctor—_ or that one of her grandparents had picked her up early as a surprise— _that would never happen, they would have called first—_ or maybe—

“What’s going on?” Olivia asked, though if the look on her face said anything, she already knew.

“She wasn’t at school,” Rafael said, talking faster than his heart was beating as he paced frantically. “Sonny’s calling his sisters and I’m calling the nanny and— _Maria,_ it’s Rafael. Did you pick up Annabelle early for some reason?”

“What? No, I don’t pick her up until 3:30. Why? Is everything okay?”

_This isn’t happening._

_This can’t be happening._

“Oh god,” Rafael whispered to no one in particular, his stomach churning as he spoke. “I have to call my mother and Sonny’s mother, and—”

“Mr. Barba? Is everything okay? Is Annabelle okay?”

“I-I’ll get back to you,” Rafael said, his hands shaking again as he hung up the phone. He’d try to remember to apologize to Maria later, but now he was too busy unsteadily dialing his mother’s phone number.

“Rafa, stop,” Liv said, making her way to him. She closed her hands around his, keeping stilling his shaking hands from dialing. “Look at me.”

He did, looking up from his phone— _homescreen of Annabelle and Sonny asleep on the couch, matching tiaras left over from her birthday party, one of his favorite pictures, it was only a few weeks ago, oh god—_ and let his eyes lock with Olivia’s. She put her hands on his trembling shoulders and squeezed. He felt everyone staring at him again, felt his cheeks hot with tears— _when did he start crying?—_ and felt his hands shake under the pressure of having to keep calling people to see if they had his daughter.

_What if they all have the same answer as Maria?_

_This isn’t happening.  
            This can’t be happening. _

“Let me call Carisi’s mother,” Olivia offered, her voice soft and understanding. “We’ll find her, okay? We will.”

He felt small. He felt like the room was closing in on him. He felt like he was dying. He felt like the demon from his nightmare had reached him and had proceeded to pull his heart straight from his chest. Any number of terrible things to feel when your world is ending, he felt.

“What if you don’t?” he asked, voice barely a whisper. He hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t even meant to think it. It was too early to think she was missing; he hadn’t called his mother yet, hadn’t called Sonny’s parents, hadn’t heard back from Sonny about his sisters… she could still be safe.

She had to still be safe.

_This can’t be happening._

\--

 

Olivia hated missing children cases. There was always the overwhelming fear that the child wouldn’t make it back to their parents, and ever since Shelia Porter had kidnapped Noah from her over four years ago, she’d had a new perspective on it. Before that, she could only imagine what it felt like to have your child taken from you, but ever since that day, it’d been real. She knew exactly what every parent who’d had a child taken from them felt.

She hated that the very thing that had happened to her was happening to Rafael. He was the strongest person she knew, and she knew how much he loved his little girl; seeing him shaking with tears streaming down his face as he talked to his mother in Spanish, trying to figure out if she’d taken her granddaughter from school for some reason, was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to watch.

She didn’t want to think the worst, but she’d been with SVU for too long not to. Reynolds’ escape from prison not an hour before Rafael and Sonny’s daughter— _their_ daughter, not Reynolds’—was taken from school by a mystery woman was too much to be a coincidence.

Rafael sat next to her in the car, his eyes red and his hands twitching in his lap. Olivia hadn’t wanted him to come, both her, Dodds, and Rita had tried their bests to convince him to wait for her to come back with Sonny, but they all knew better. Barba was nothing if not stubborn.

_“If you don’t take me with you, I’ll follow you. Olivia, I need to be there, for myself and for Sonny.”_

The urgency in his voice, the way he stared her down with a mix of determination and heartbreak had made her give in. She’d expected Dodds to try and stop him once again, but he’d put his hands up in surrender and nodded in her direction.

Before they even entered the school’s office, Olivia could hear Carisi’s voice, yelling at the woman at the front desk. She opened the door of the office and immediately flashed her badge at the security officer before making her way with Rafael over to her detective, face growing redder as his words got louder and angrier.

“Let me get this straight, you’re telling me you just let some _random woman_ who wasn’t on the pick-up list _take my daughter from school?_ Are you fucking insane? Do any of you do your jobs, or are you—”

“Carisi!” Olivia stopped him, walking up with Rafael in tow. “Carisi, please, let me handle this.”

“Lieu, I—”

“Let her talk to them, Sonny,” Rafael said, his voice shaking. “Please.”

Upon seeing his husband in such an obvious state of worry and disarray, Carisi backed off. Olivia watched as he walked over to Rafael and wrapped his arms around him, his grasp on him tight as they held each other. Olivia watched some miniscule amount of the tension leave her friend’s body as he buried his face in his husband’s neck.

Olivia turned around to face the woman who Sonny had been yelling at previously. She looked terrified, and rightly so. “Lieutenant Benson,” she presented herself. “What can you tell me about the woman who took Anabelle Baker?”

She hated used Annabelle’s last name, just as she knew Carisi and Barba hated hearing it. They couldn’t get her last name changed until she was adopted, but that was only two months away. Two measly months until Annabelle would no longer have to carry around a last name that she shouldn’t have to bare.

“She said she was a family friend,” the woman, a small mousy woman with short grey hair, who Olivia assumed was the attendance officer, answered.

“So, you just let her take a four-year-old because someone said she was a family friend?” Olivia snapped, her fist balling around the hem of her jacket. If they were to have done this one-hundred percent by the books, she wouldn’t have been there questioning. She couldn’t remain objective, not when it was her best friend’s daughter— _she’d hugged her and called her Aunt Liv just three days ago—_ that had been kidnapped.

“She said that one of her dads was in the hospital!” The lady tried to defend herself. She was leaning further and further back in her chair as Olivia stared her down. If she moved back any further, she might have fallen into the potted plant behind her. “I was going to call, but I assumed… well, I knew one of her dads was a cop, I just assumed something awful had happened. I didn’t want to put them through any more trouble.”

“ _Any more trouble?”_ Rafael interjected, breaking away from Carisi’s arms and rushing towards the lady’s desk. “What do you think this is?” he yelled, desperation in his voice. “What do you think letting some woman we don’t know take our daughter is _putting us through?”_

“Rafa.” Olivia put her hand on Rafael’s arm and tried to meet his gaze. His eyes were fixed on the woman in front of him, still trying her best to shrink into the wall behind her.

“What did she think, Liv?” he asked, looking over to her, teary eyes wide and full of bewilderment. “That everything was going to be okay? That you can just… just give someone’s kid away to whoever comes by with the best sob story?”

“I know, I know,” Olivia whispered, trying her best to soothe him. She looked over at Carisi, who she noticed for the first time had tears brimming at his eyes, in a silent plea to take Rafael away.

“C’mere,” Carisi whispered, putting his hand on Rafael’s shoulder and pulling him away gently, giving the woman a hateful glare before he did. “It’s okay, it’ll be okay,” Olivia heard him whisper, pulling Rafael into his chest again for a moment before walking him over to the bench not far from the woman’s desk. Olivia knew what they were going through, and it made her heart seize up as she watched them cry in each other’s arms.

“What did this woman look like?” Olivia asked, turning her attention back to the attendance officer.

“I don’t know, I didn’t get a good look, I—”

“Do you _really_ want to be responsible if something happens to the daughter of an assistant district attorney and a detective, just because you couldn’t think hard enough?” Olivia cut her off, lowering her voice so Rafael and Sonny couldn’t hear her. She leaned in so her face was only inches from the woman’s; up close, she could tell just how terrified the woman was of her.

 “O-okay,” she stuttered out. “She was… she was white. Mid-twenties, maybe? She was short, and wearing a hoodie, and… and she had green eyes, I think. I didn’t get a good look of her features or anything because of the hoodie, but I remember the eyes.”

“Anything else? Did Annabelle seem to know her?”

“I don’t know, I mean, she knew Annabelle’s name, obviously, but… but Annabelle didn’t seem to want to go with her.”

“And you still didn’t think it wasn’t a good idea to let her go?” Olivia asked. She couldn’t believe how stupid someone could be. All of this could have been prevented by this woman making one singular call to either Rafael or Sonny, but she took the lazy way out by just handing Annabelle off. If not for the fact that finding Annabelle was the top priority, Olivia would have arrested the woman for…

Well, she’d have thought of something.

“I knew Annabelle had attachment issues! When she first started going to school here she never wanted to leave with the nanny, or even her aunts or grandparents! I thought… I don’t know, I thought that maybe it was just that.” The woman sighed and shook her head. To her credit, she did look genuinely remorseful, not that it made it any better. “I thought she was just being a normal, difficult, four-year-old.”

“I want security tapes,” Olivia said, pushing herself away from the woman.

“I can get those.” The woman motioned for the security guard to come over and proceeded to ask for the security tapes from that morning to be pulled.

Olivia went over to Rafael and Carisi to relay what she’d learned. Rafael had his head in his hands, whispering something that Olivia couldn’t quite make out, and Sonny had his hand on Rafael’s back, rubbing circles in his husband’s back. They both looked like they’d been hit by busses.

“Hey,” Olivia said gently, trying to keep her voice gentle and not allow her own emotions to crack through. If she were being honest, she knew the second she was away from them she’d break down herself.

They didn’t deserve this. _Annabelle_ didn’t deserve this. Sonny had been right a year ago when he’d told Olivia what a sweet little girl Annabelle was. For everything she’d been through, she still held onto an abundance of childhood sweetness and innocence. Olivia had to stop herself from thinking about how terrified Annabelle must’ve been, how _God_ knows what could’ve been happening to her, in order to keep calm in front of Sonny and Rafael. The only way she would be able to get through this was if she treated them like any other parents of missing children, not her best friend and his husband, not the parents of her God-daughter.

She remembered Rafael asking her to be Annabelle’s God-mother with fondness. It’d been a month after the trial had finished. They’d been relaxing on his couch, sharing a bowl of popcorn as their kids played with Annabelle’s new kitten. She’d remembered the look of smug satisfaction on Rafael’s face when Annabelle had chosen a kitten over a puppy, much to Carisi’s dismay.

 _“I want you to be her god-mother,”_ Rafael had said, seemingly out of nowhere.

_“You… what?”_

_“Yeah. Sonny thought she needed a godparent, and I know she’s already got three aunts who adore her, but…”_ Rafael had trailed off, shrugging a bit and popping more popcorn into his mouth, his eyes transfixed on the little black kitten jumping up and down as Noah waved a cat toy in the air, Annabelle giggling with joy. _“It’s a Catholic thing, and while I’m sure Sonny and I will probably argue to some extent about how religious we’re going to raise her, I think the whole_ godparent _thing is a good idea.”_

She’d said yes in a heartbeat.

The fondness of the memory, the way Annabelle had run up to her with the kitten in her arms and a smile on her face, quickly turned to gut-wrenching agony at the thought of never seeing Annabelle again.

_No._

She couldn’t think like that. She wouldn’t let herself.

“What’d you find out?” Sonny asked, looking up from where he’d been staring down at the floor.

“White woman, mid-twenties, short, green eyes, wearing a hoodie,” Olivia informed them. “She used a ruse, said that one of Annabelle’s dads was in the hospital and she was a family friend there to pick her up.”

“I can’t believe she believed that,” Rafael muttered, sniffling as he looked up.

“Me neither,” Olivia admitted, sighing gently and putting her hand on Rafael’s knee. “After I get the security tapes, I need to get you two back to the precinct.”

The two nodded in unison and stood up. Once they had the tapes, they made their way out of the school. It was an unspoken agreement that they’d let Olivia take them back to the station and that they’d send someone to get Sonny’s car later. As they walked out the school, Olivia found herself wondering if Sonny had just left Amanda at the station or if she’d come to the school too and already left, or maybe she was still here, and they just somehow completely forgot about her amid all the yelling and chaos, maybe—

“No… no, no, no, no!”

Olivia turned to see Rafael stop in his tracks, Sonny stopping as well. Whatever Rafael saw, neither Olivia or Sonny had seen yet. Rafael pulled away from Sonny’s side and walked over to a bush near the sidewalk that led to the school. In a swift movement, Rafael bent down and grabbed something out of the bush, laying discarded against it.

She still had no idea what he had grabbed until he stood up. When she saw it, her heart dropped further than it had when she’d heard Reynolds had escaped, further than it had when she’d heard the woman talk about how she’d just let Annabelle leave with some woman no one knew. She fought the urge to start crying once again. She couldn’t move as she stared at Rafael’s hands, shock hitting her like a wave.

“This isn’t happening,” she heard Rafael whisper.

No one said anything, no one moved, no one even _breathed_ for a couple of seconds as they all processed what they’d seen in the dirt. To anyone else, it wouldn’t have been anything to worry about, just something dropped and forgotten about. To Annabelle’s parents and God-mother, however? Something that made them all even sicker than they’d already been.

In the dirt, before Rafael had picked it up, laid a one-eared bunny, light brown and soft. Annabelle never went anywhere without the bunny; she brought him over for playdates, asked politely for Olivia to set a small place at the table for him, propped him up next to her to watch movies with her and Noah, fed him popcorn and covered his eyes whenever she thought he might be scared, put him on the kitten’s back and tried to get him to ride her, and slept with him tightly in her grasp.

Everyone who cared for Annabelle, or even simply knew the vaguest details of her life, knew that where Annabelle was, that little bunny wasn’t far behind. It was common knowledge that it was like her safety blanket, something no one was going to try and rip from her until she was ready to part from it. Whoever took her knew nothing about Annabelle, not even the most obvious fact of her life. They hadn’t cared enough to turn around and let Annabelle pick up her bunny, had just pulled her from the school and out and away from safety.

Olivia’s thoughts echoed the same as which Rafael had been saying out loud throughout the past hour, her stomach churning and her skin crawling.

_This isn’t happening._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember that vine i linked last chapter
> 
> >:)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey there demons it's me, ya boi. 
> 
> yeah so i know it's been liiiike three months but in my defense school and depression are both gigantic bitches. hopefully the last chapter won't take me another three months to write/edit but uhhhh no promises. also knock on wood there aren't too many errors in this chapter because i feel like i've gotten to the point where i've reread it so many times i won't be able to pick up on them lmao. 
> 
> anyways, as always enjoy, leave a comment, kudo, etc. and feel free to follow me on twitter!  
> \- twitter: @rrafaelbarba

Sonny had barely processed what had happened in the last few hours. He felt as if his life was somehow moving too fast and too slow at the same exact time. He tried to ground himself and pay attention to the few things that kept him on Earth—Rafael’s arm around him, Liv’s comforting words in the back of his mind, his mother’s promise of prayer—but it was easier said than done.

Olivia, who’d been running back and forth since they got back to the precinct, relaying messages and instructions to unis and detectives alike, finally came back into her office. She sighed deeply and took her seat across from them on the couch they sat at together. His hands were shaking and his stomach felt like it would betray him at any second. The more he let his mind wander and think about where his daughter could be, the more he felt like the world was crashing down on him.

“Sorry about that,” she said, crossing her legs and giving them both gentle gazes.

“Any updates?” Rafael asked, his voice choked and scratchy. They were both messes, tears staining their cheeks, eyes red, and fear coloring their faces. Sonny had never had been remarkable at hiding how he felt, anyways; Rafael, on the other hand, had mastered it decades ago. When they’d started seeing each other, what felt like a lifetime ago, Sonny thought he might not ever be able to read his partner. Rafael was well practiced in pretending he was okay when he really wasn’t. Sonny learned a long time ago that Rafael was a master at pushing his emotions down and refusing to be vulnerable.

After being together for a while, and especially after being married for over three years, Sonny was able to read Rafael like his favorite book. When others saw stoic, Sonny would see distressed. When others saw anger, Sonny would see regret. When others saw frustration, Sonny would see someone about to be pushed to their breaking point.

Now, as they sat on Olivia’s office couch, being treated like victims once again, Rafael wasn’t even attempting to hide his utter dismay. There was no point in it, pretending he was a hard-ass, not when their daughter was out there with God knows who doing God knows what to her.

“Yes and no,” Olivia admitted. “We got a close-up image from the security videos, we’re running it through VICAP now and we’re cross-referencing her with known associates and friends of Reynolds, along with…” Olivia paused and took a breath. Neither of them needed her to go on; they knew exactly what they were doing. They were covering their basis, checking sex offender registries, running Annabelle’s face through NCMEC, talking to any known pedophiles near the area, and so on and so forth. Sonny had done the same thing more times than he could count, but he never imagined it happening with his child.

His daughter being the subject of the horror he’d seen felt like some kind of sick irony. He’d sat in the same position as Olivia was now, telling parents to stay calm, that they were doing all they could. Now that he was in the position so many parents had been in before, he couldn’t believe he’d ever told parents in his position not to panic. He’d been panicking since the moment he realized someone other than him or Rafael had picked Annabelle up from school.

They should’ve taken Reynolds’ threats more seriously, both the ones in the courtroom and the ones Matthews had made towards them. They should’ve done more, made sure any known associates of Reynolds didn’t know where they lived, or where Annabelle went to school. Sonny had a whole list of _should haves_ that he couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking of. All he could do was think back on the millions of things that would’ve kept this from happening. Some small part of his brain was screaming that hindsight was 20/20, and that there was no way that he could’ve predicted any of this, but he couldn’t bring himself to listen to it.

Sonny hadn’t realized he was shaking until he felt Rafael’s arms strengthen around him. He let himself fall into Rafael’s arms for a moment, his head resting on his shoulder before allowing Liv to ask the questions he knew she had to ask; it’d be the same caliber of questions he’d asked parents numerous times.

“Are you guys okay to answer some questions?” Olivia asked, as if either of them would turn down a chance to find their daughter. After they answered in nods, she pulled out her notepad and looked back in their direction. “When was the last time you saw Annabelle?”

“This morning when I dropped her off at school,” Sonny answered, trying to concentrate on the small comfort of Rafael’s arms around him. All he could think about was letting go of Annabelle’s hand and giving her a hug goodbye.

 _“I love you, Belles,”_ he’d said, pressing a kiss to her forehead and smoothing down her pigtails. “ _See you tonight, okay?”_

 _“Love you, Daddy!”_ she’d responded, little arms circling around him before she ran off to meet her teacher, Bee secured in one hand and lunchbox in the other. When she first started pre-school, she would throw fits at having to leave them. Months later, she brought home macaroni art and told her fathers stories of things that happened at school, her little face lit up like a Christmas tree. Her progress never failed to make him feel proud, and the thought that it could all be ruined, that her life could be ruined, by a selfish maniac made Sonny boil with anger.

The more he thought about the last time he saw his daughter, the more his heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest, breaking with the pain that he could’ve seen his daughter for the last time that morning. He’d never forgive himself for letting go of her hand that morning.

 _God,_ he should’ve never let go.

“Have you noticed anything strange recently? You know, weird calls, anyone unusual around your—”

“No, no, of course not,” Sonny cut her off, fear creeping back into his body. He couldn’t think like a detective anymore; he couldn’t see the usefulness in the questions Liv was asking. “We would’ve done something, I mean, _I_ would’ve been able to tell if some creep or psycho was lurking around and watching my daughter!”

“I know, Carisi, I know,” Liv’s voice was gentle and understanding once again. He hated that she was treating him like any other father who’d had their daughter kidnapped, not a Detective who was toying the line of disrespect. “I just have to ask.”

“I know,” Sonny whispered, his face screwing into an uncomfortable expression. “I just… we gotta find her.”

Olivia reached out and put a hand on his knee. “We will.”

It was a promise she couldn’t keep; he knew it, she knew it, Rafael knew it. He also knew his boss, and he knew she’d do everything within her power to bring Annabelle back.

“Oh god, I forgot,” Rafael cut in, just as Olivia made like she was about to continue with her questions. Whatever Rafael had remembered, it turned his face white and caused him to cover his hand with his mouth.

“What?” Olivia asked, her head turning to look in Rafael’s direction.

Rafael was quiet for a second, his hand scrubbing down his face as he shook his head. “Back in September, around Annabelle’s birthday, I got calls from Rikers… from Reynolds,” Rafael admitted.

Sonny jerked himself from Rafael’s arms, and turned to shoot a confused glare at him. He rarely found himself angry at Rafael—not truly angry, nothing that would cause him to not want to be in his arms anywhere—but now…

_Fuck._

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice raised and shaking. “The sociopath who thinks Annabelle belongs to him called you, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Rafael tried, reaching out to put his hand on Sonny’s arm, but Sonny jerked away.

“No, fuck that! She’s my daughter, too, Rafael! I deserved to know he was calling you, I—”

“Okay, okay, you’re right!” Rafael cut him off, his hand pulling back to rest on his own leg. “I should’ve told you, but… Sonny, everything was going so well. Annabelle was sleeping through the night and she wasn’t having meltdowns any time anyone other than us came near her, she was… she was _finally_ acting like a normal kid who hadn’t been through the absolute hell she’s been through. I just…” Rafael paused and looked away from Sonny and down to Bee who’d been secured on his lap since they’d got him back from CSU; nothing unusual had been found on him, not that they’d expected anything. “I just wanted to pretend our family was normal, just for her birthday.”

As much as Sonny wanted to be angry at Rafael—and _God,_ did he, if only to give him a selfish excuse to scream and yell and be outwardly angry—he couldn’t blame him for wanting to pretend things were normal just for a little bit. He wasn’t all too pleased with the fact Rafael had hid it from him—and he was sure they’d be having words about it later—but he understood why he’d done it. Sometimes it was easier to pretend that they were like any other family. It was easier to pretend that Annabelle was legally their daughter, easier to pretend that Sonny hadn’t found her terrified and crying in a closet, easier to pretend her biological-father wasn’t in jail for killing her abusive excuse of a mother.

“You said you didn’t answer?” Liv asked, cutting in when it was clear their spat had come to a halt for the moment.

“Yeah, I hung up the second I heard Reynolds’ name,” Rafael answered, nodding his head and moving his hand to rub at his arm, trying to calm his own shaking. Sonny might’ve been some degree of angry with Rafael, but he could never sit by and watch as he was hurting. He learned over and wrapped an arm around his husband and held him tight, allowing Rafael to ease into his arms.

“I know you think its Reynolds, and honestly…” Olivia sighed and nodded her head a bit. “It probably is… but, can either of you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt you or Annabelle?”

Rafael shook his head. “No, no, I mean, I know there’s a lot of people who aren’t exactly pleased with me.” He was right. Between people he’d put in jail, families who’d been angry at him for either prosecuting or not prosecuting, or cops he’d indicted for murder, Rafael wasn’t exactly the most popular ADA. “But I don’t think anyone hates me enough to do anything to Annabelle.”

Olivia nodded and leaned back in her chair. Logically, Sonny knew she was just doing her job, that she had to cross all her T’s and dot all her I’s in the off chance that it wasn’t Reynolds who did this, but Sonny _knew._ Between the break out and the calls, he knew it was him.

“Think about the last few weeks. I know you said you’d have noticed someone creeping around you, but what about someone inconspicuous? Someone you saw more than just once in a couple weeks, or maybe someone that approached you and tried to talk to you or Annabelle?”

Rafael shook his head and scrubbed at his eye with the palm of his hand. “I haven’t seen anyone.”

“Just… think. Both of you. Even if it seems inconsequential, just try and think.”

Sonny closed his eyes for a second and tried to think about anyone and everyone who he might have seen in the last few weeks. No one and everyone came to mind all at once. It was hard to pinpoint who could’ve been a threat and who could’ve just been a friendly stranger. _Everyone_ told him that Annabelle was cute, everyone smiled at her, everyone waved at her… it wasn’t something he found odd. Despite her anxiety and inherent shyness, Annabelle was still a cute, sweet, friendly, little girl.

“Everyone tells us she’s cute all the time,” Rafael muttered, clearly on the same thought train Sonny had been on. “I never think twice about it. It’s just… it’s what people say, you know? Why think about it?”

Sonny kept trying to think back to anyone new he’d seen in their neighborhood the last few weeks, anyone he’d seen at the park without a child, someone he’d seen grocery shopping popping into the aisles he was in too much to be a coincidence… _anything_ that could help. He tried his best to keep his ever-growing fear down long enough to think with a clear head, to be able to point out something that maybe seemed abnormal in hindsight but hadn’t at the time.

“Two weeks ago, that Monday I had off, I picked Annabelle up early from school and we went grocery shopping. There was this woman who told me Annabelle was cute,” Sonny recollected. Olivia had asked for inconsequential, and that was all he could offer at this point. “I didn’t think twice, she seemed harmless and she didn’t linger or anything. I saw her again when we were in checkout line, she came right behind us and she said hi to Annabelle and asked me how old she was… I didn’t think anything of it, I thought she was just making conversation.”

“But?”

Sonny shook his head and bit down on the inside of his cheek, a habit he’d thought he’d broken. “I don’t know. She didn’t really have anything with her, just a pack of gum and a bottle of Pepsi. I didn’t think about it at the time, but it’s weird she didn’t go to self-checkout, right? Is that somethin’?”

He couldn’t read Olivia’s expression, but he had the feeling she might’ve thought he was grasping at straws. He probably _was_ grasping at straws, someone being nice to his daughter and not wanting to deal with a finnicky self-checkout wasn’t exactly grounds to find someone guilty of kidnapping. “Did you see her anywhere else that day?”

“I…” Sonny trailed off and shook his head, trying to go back to that day and retrace his steps. Two weeks back felt like three lifetimes ago; straining his memory to think about some woman who may or may not even be involved with his daughter’s kidnapping felt pointless, if not impossible. “I don’t know, I just… I don’t know.”

Olivia picked up on his frustration and leaned forward again, giving him a little nod. “That’s okay, we can just run back through the day, alright? What did you do?”

“I promised Gina I’d help her fix some things around her house, so I dropped Annabelle off at school and went up to Staten Island for a few hours. I picked Annabelle back up around noon, then we went grocery shopping,” Sonny sputtered out, his brain moving too fast for him to pick and choose what was and wasn’t important about that day.

“After that?”

“We went to McDonalds,” Sonny answered slowly. Normally, he’d have been met with _really, McDonalds, Sonny? Of all the food to feed our daughter, you chose McDonalds?_ by Rafael, but Annabelle’s fast food consumption was the least of anyone’s worries. “We sat down and ate and when we were done she wanted to play in the play-pin and…”

He thought back to the way Annabelle had giggled going down the slide, how she’d climbed around in the play-pin’s tubes, how she’d ran back to him halfway through to ask for a drink of her milk before running towards the ball pit, all normal things that would happen any other time he took her to a play place.  

“She… the same woman was at the McDonalds. I noticed her, and I waved at her and she walked over, and we chatted,” Sonny recalled. It wasn’t something he’d expected to ever need to remember again. He was used to having unimportant and fleeting conversations with strangers as a detective. Even as a father, he’d often strike up conversation with another parent while their kids played on the playground.

“Did she have a kid with her?”

“I asked her that, and she said she was there with her niece,” Sonny answered, trying to remember the conversation word for word. “She didn’t have a kid with her at the store, but I didn’t think about it. It didn’t seem important, but… but I don’t know. There weren’t too many kids in the play-pin, and the ones that were there looked like they belonged to other people.”

“Okay, okay, that might be something,” Olivia said, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Can you remember seeing her anywhere else?”

“I-I don’t know.” Sonny shook his head and continued to wrack his brain, trying to find _something_ of import. The whole time he feared that he could potentially be leading them on a wild goose chase, something that wouldn’t get them anywhere closer to finding Annabelle. “I might’ve seen her at the park last weekend. Maybe, I don’t know.”

“Can you tell me what she looked like?”

“Yeah. She was… she had mid-length red hair, lotta freckles, green eyes, and she was short. Real short, 5’1” at the most.”

Olivia reached next to her and grabbed her iPad, unlocking it and pulling something up before sliding it over to Sonny. In front of him was a screengrab of the video taken from Annabelle’s school’s security cameras. It was grainy, but he could still sort of make out the images. He felt ill as he looked at the woman standing at the front desk, checking his daughter out, and then proceeding to leave with a clearly upset Annabelle.

“Is that her?”

Sonny tried to look at her, but he had a hard time making it out. It could’ve very well been the woman he’d seen at the store and McDonalds, but it also could’ve been a number of other women he’d seen in his life.

“I don’t know, I can’t tell,” Sonny admitted, feeling defeated. He felt as if any information he was giving them was utterly useless.

“Wait,” Rafael said, his head jolting up from Sonny’s arm where he’d been leaning. “Wasn’t Reynolds’ sister a red-head? Reynolds said Annabelle looked just like his sister did when she was little, so…”

As Rafael trailed off, Olivia nodded and got up from her chair in a swift motion. “I’ll be right back.”

As they were left alone, Sonny felt the entire world crash on him once again. He felt like his heart had been weighed down with lead, heavy and poisoned in his chest. He thought back to all the missing children cases he’d worked, images of parents crying, missing children posters, and bodies of dead children he couldn’t save crossing his mind. He knew that they were thoughts he shouldn’t have been entertaining, that they were only making things worse, but he couldn’t stop them. His brain was bogged down with fear of what had happened and what he knew was a possibility of happening.

“We’re gonna find her,” he heard Rafael whisper, his head nodding a bit as he looked over to Sonny. “Everything’s gonna be okay, they’ll find her and… and…” it was a poor attempt of convincing him that things were going to turn out fine, considering Rafael didn’t look like he believed it, but Sonny appreciated it nonetheless.

Sonny pulled Rafael into his arms closer and rested his chin atop his head, holding him and reminding him that at least he still had Rafael. That was the only positive thing he had going for him, and despite how much he loved him, it wasn’t helping much. He knew Rafael was feeling the exact same way, if the way he grasped onto him and shook a little was any indication.

“I’m sorry,” Rafael whispered after a few moments, sniffling a little. “I should’ve told you about the calls, I shouldn’t have ignored them, I just…”

“You’re you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rafael asked, though he didn’t sound nearly as offended as Sonny supposed he would’ve if their daughter wasn’t missing.

“Just… you don’t talk about bad things happening to you. It’s the death threats all over again.” Rafael opened his mouth to refute, but Sonny cut him off. “Raf, I’m… I’m not mad. I mean, I am, but not at you. Not entirely at you, at least. I get that you try and hide the bad because you don’t want them to hurt me, but it’s not just _you_ that you gotta worry about anymore, you get that, right? We have a kid. You can’t just… ignore bad things and hope they go away. Especially when they have to do with that fucking psychopath.”

Rafael nodded, not even bothering to defend himself. Sonny supposed it was a mix of being too exhausted and knowing that Sonny was right. “I know,” he whispered, guilt dripping from his voice. “I know, and I’m sorry. This is my fault.”

Sonny pulled away from Rafael just enough so he could look him in the eye. Sonny might have been putting the blame on himself, something he sure as hell wouldn’t stop doing, but that didn’t mean he was going to let Rafael do the same. “Don’t say that. This isn’t your fault, you couldn’t’ve prevented this. Reynolds… he was gonna do this whether you answered the call or not. This isn’t on you. You gotta know that.”

Rafael looked at him with a pained expression, eyes full of tears and regret. “So what, you’re telling me you aren’t blaming yourself?”

He’d looked right through him, just as he always did. Sonny sighed and began to chew the left side of his cheek again, pulling his gaze from Rafael’s. “I can’t help but think if I’d done more then she’d still be here. I should’ve made sure the school was more secure, made sure no one knew where we lived or where she went to school, should’ve drilled it into her head not to go with strangers even if they come to get her from school, should’ve—”

“You can’t blame yourself, either,” Rafael whispered, his hand moving to Sonny’s chin, gently turning Sonny’s head so that they could look at each other again. “I guess neither of us can.”

Before Sonny could either agree or disagree with the whole _not blaming ourselves_ thing, Olivia came back into the room. Rafael dropped his hand from Sonny’s chin and instead took both of his hands in his, holding tight. Sonny wasn’t sure if he did it to remind himself that Sonny was still there, to remind Sonny that he was still there for him, or a mix of both, but he was grateful whatever the reason.

“Is this her?” Olivia asked, putting a mugshot in front of him.

The second he saw the picture, he felt like the walls of the Lieutenant’s office were closing in on him, squeezing him and making it impossible to breathe. “Oh God, that’s her,” he answered, nodding for a second before looking up to Olivia. “That’s… that’s Reynolds’ sister?”

Olivia sighed and nodded, putting her hand on Sonny’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“How did this happen?” Rafael muttered, not to anyone in particular. _“Why_ did this happen?”

Sitting across them again, Olivia gave them her patented comforting gaze. It didn’t help in the slightest. “I can’t express how sorry I am this is happening to you, but I promise, we’re doing everything to get her back.”

Neither of them could bring themselves to respond. Sonny found himself choking on the words _do more,_ but he knew it wouldn’t help the situation. It wasn’t Olivia’s fault they hadn’t found Annabelle yet, the only one to blame was Reynolds and his damn sister.  

 

\--

 

Tracking down Sara Reynolds had been significantly easier than it had been tracking down her brother months prior. She’d been in her apartment, not even bothering to attempt to hide after she’d kidnapped a four-year-old. Olivia had hoped that they’d find Annabelle when going through Sara’s apartment, but there weren’t signs that there’d ever been a child there in the first place. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, all she knew was that Sara had kidnapped her friend’s daughter.

Walking into the bullpen with Sara Reynolds, handcuffed and having already lawyered up, Olivia couldn’t help but to feel like they were about to start running in circles. Sara Reynolds, after adamantly denying having seen Annabelle, lawyered up on the way to the precinct. Olivia felt memories of what she went through a few years back, of Shelia Porter kidnapping Noah and the fear that she’d never see him again, flood back into her mind. She knew exactly what Barba and Carisi were going through, the overwhelming despair that you’d never see your child again, the feeling that you could have in some way prevented it, the helplessness you feel… she understood it all. The looks on their faces, ones of fear and _pain_ made her skin crawl.

Sara Reynolds had kept her mouth shut since she’d asked for the lawyer. As much as Olivia wanted to throw her against a wall and scream at her to tell her where her friend’s daughter was, she knew that it wouldn’t get them anywhere.

The second they stepped into the bullpen, she felt everyone’s eyes fall to them. It was undoubtable that Sara and Annabelle were of blood relation; they had the same red hair, same pale skin, same freckles, and same bright green eyes. The second Olivia laid eyes on Sara she understood how Carson Reynolds could’ve easily put two and two together and realized that Annabelle was his biological daughter.

Among the eyes that fell to Sara, was of Carisi’s. Immediately, Olivia regretted not asking Fin to get them out of the interview room to somewhere they wouldn’t see her walk in with the woman who most likely helped kidnap their child. Within an instant, Carisi was out of the interview room, and across the bullpen.

“Where is she?” Carisi screamed, charging towards them with an intensity that only belonged to parents in fear of losing their child. “Where the hell did you take my daughter?”

“Carisi—”

He ignored her, just as she expected him too. She didn’t for a second blame him for the complete disregard of a superior officer’s command, because she wasn’t his lieutenant right now. Carisi was just another father that sat in agony, waiting for his child to be returned to him. The only major difference was this was personal.

“Where the fuck is she, huh? Did you take her to your scumbag brother? Did you—?”

Amidst his yelling at Sara, getting in her face as she attempted to jerk out of Olivia’s grasp, he was pulled back from her. It took both Fin and Amanda to pull Sonny from the very terrified Sara, cowering from the man who undoubtedly would rip her head off if found she really had kidnapped his daughter.

“Carisi, _stop,_ ” Olivia all but begged, giving him a stern look.  

“She has my daughter,” he yelled, jerking out of Fin and Amanda’s grasp. “At the very least, she knows where she is. I have to—”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Amanda cut him off. All the while, Olivia shoved Sara off onto a uni with instructions to take her to interrogation. “All you _have_ to do is go and sit down, be with Barba. Let us do our jobs, Sonny.”

Sonny watched as Sara was escorted back towards an interrogation room, his eyes a mix of fury and heartbreak. Olivia’s heart felt heavy, seeing the pain in his eyes. She knew what it was like to be told you couldn’t try and save your child. She remembered the way her heart dropped into her stomach when Chief Dodds’ had told her that she couldn’t be involved when Noah was kidnapped.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Olivia reassured Sonny, her hand resting on his shoulder for a moment. “We’re doing everything we can to find her, but you getting in her face and yelling isn’t going to help, especially since she lawyered up.”

“Already?” Sonny asked, his eyes flooded with terror. “How long is that gonna take?”

“We made a call, told them to get a public defender here right away. We made it very clear that there was a missing four-year old.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze and nodded, hoping her assuredness was enough to calm him down for the time being. “We’ll find her, okay?”

Sonny nodded reluctantly, giving into her reassurance. Just then, Barba came back into the room, confusion apparent on his face. He looked at the small hoard of people in the middle of the room, crowding around his husband for a moment before crossing the room to meet them.

“What happened?” His eyes were wide, and his hands shook at his sides ever so slightly. Olivia was sure he’d been shaking out of either fear or nerves since he found out Annabelle had been kidnapped. She’d never seen Rafael in this much pain before, but every second she experienced it, her heart broke.

“They got Reynolds’ sister in custody,” Sonny answered, leaning back against the desk behind him. In that moment, Olivia noticed just how exhausted Carisi looked. Annabelle might’ve only been missing for two hours, but it was enough time for exhaustion to set into her parents’ bodies.

Rafael’s expression was hard to read. She couldn’t tell if it was exhaustion, relief, or terror, maybe a mix of all three. Her heart continued to break as she looked at him; if she could, she would’ve ran over to him and held him until all of this went away. Instead, she decided on doing absolutely everything in her power to bring Annabelle back.

“Are you about to interrogate her?” he asked, his voice grasping for steadiness but sounding mere moments away from breaking.

“We’re waiting for her public defender.”

Rafael nodded and walked over to Carisi, taking his hand and looking up at him with a gentleness that she’d noticed a long time ago was reserved for his husband. Olivia could tell he was trying his best to be strong, but she couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take for that façade to fall. A person could only hold up a front of strength in the worst moment of their life for so long. He pulled Carisi into his arms, giving him a hug and a kiss on his cheek before heading back to the interview room. Before they made it, he turned back and locked eyes with Olivia.

“Liv?” he started, giving her a desperate look. “Find her. Please.”

She nodded and moved her hands to her heart, making a promise without saying as much out loud. She’d learned a long time ago that making promises to families whose child was missing was a mistake. Getting a parent’s hopes up that they’d be reunited with their child, only to bring them the worst news they’ll ever hear in their life was not only unfair to the parent, it was something that would stick with her for the rest of her life. Still, it was hard for her not to promise her friend that she’d find his daughter; it was the least she could do to alleviate at least the smallest amount of fear.  

Once Barba and Carisi had sequestered themselves back into the relative comfort of the interview room, and Sara’s public defender showed up, Olivia started to prepare herself for the inevitable. She knew she’d have to try and remain calm inside the room and not scream at the woman to tell her where Annabelle was, to reason with her and promise her everything would be okay as long as she told them what she knew _._ She was preparing herself to reason with Sara, to say whatever she had to so she could keep the promise she’d made.

Outside the room, she saw Amanda and Fin staring at Sara, similar looks of disgust on their faces. She looked over at Amanda and noted the glare directed at Sara; she looked at her like she was ready to throw her into the glass like Carson had done to her seven months prior. Frankly, Olivia didn’t blame her.

“The only call Reynolds made in the past seven months was to his sister,” Fin informed her, motioning towards Sara as he spoke. “There’s nothing suspicious in the calls, but there’s a lot of contraband going into Rikers. He could’ve gotten a phone that way, made the plans with Sara to kidnap Annabelle like that.”

Behind them, Stone stopped and stood with them, all four eyes sizing up Sara. They’d been given the okay by her lawyer to come in and question her; the only thing stopping them was trying to calm themselves down enough to face her. Olivia was having a hard time trying to grasp the right words to say once she stepped inside the box. Nothing came to mind except for the urge to grab her by the collar and scream, _where is she?_ repeatedly until she caved. It was good to have Stone there, offering a semblance of impartiality when the rest of the squad was far beyond capability of being objective.

“Benson?” Stone got her attention, starting to head into the room.

“Wait,” she stopped him, hand on his arm to stop him. “Whatever she wants, give it to her. The only that matters is her telling us where Annabelle is.”

“I can’t offer her anything below felony kidnapping. She kidnapped an ADA and detective’s daughter. Both your bosses and mine are pushing for the max on everyone involved in this.”

“I don’t care what your bosses or my bosses want,” Olivia snapped. She took a breath and looked back into the room; staying calm was becoming harder by the second and she hadn’t even started the interrogation yet. “All I care is getting Annabelle home safe. We can worry about making a case later; right now, all that matters is we find her.”

Stone sighed and nodded. She knew he wasn’t crazy about the situation from a legal standpoint, but she also knew he was good enough of a man to do what he had to do to help her get the information she needed to find Annabelle.

Making their way into the room, Olivia felt Sara’s eyes latch onto her. Sara looked a striking amount like her brother, yet she looked dissimilar in a million different ways. Sara was younger than Carson by a couple of years, and she didn’t look nearly as angry as he had, sitting in the exact place he’d been seven months back. Despite what she’d supposedly done, Olivia didn’t get the impression that Sara was a hardened criminal, not like her brother.

That didn’t change the fact she wanted to wring her neck for what she’d done.

“Where’s Annabelle, Sara?” she asked, getting straight to the point. Beating around the bush and trying to pretend she was on Sara’s side when Annabelle was out there, _God_ knows where, wasn’t going to benefit anyone. Especially not Annabelle.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sara responded, though her eyes darting from Olivia to her lawyer told a different story. Her hands were shaking where they sat on the table, and Olivia could practically feel the anxiety radiating off her. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’d taken Annabelle just from her nervous fidgeting, but that didn’t tell her _where_ Annabelle was.

“You’re wasting your time with Ms. Reynolds,” her lawyer said, looking from Sara back to Olivia. He reminded Olivia of the defender who’d dealt with Eric Matthews all those months back: incompetent, fresh out of law school, and getting in her way. “Instead of questioning her, why don’t you go out and actually look for this little girl?”

“What do you think we’re doing?” Olivia shot at him, taking steps forward so she was closer to Sara. “ _Where is she?”_

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Sara tried again. No one in the room, not even her lawyer, seemed to buy that.

“So, you’re telling me you have absolutely no knowledge of the whereabouts of Annabelle?” Olivia huffed and shook her head a little before leaning in so she was face to face with Sara. “We have you on video leaving the school with her, we have witnesses of you with her, you were the only one who called and visited your brother in jail, and one of Annabelle’s fathers saw you—”

“ _They_ aren’t her fathers!” Sara cut Olivia off, her hands coming down on the table. She had the belief that Annabelle belonged to Carson solely because they shared blood in common with her brother, at the very least. “My brother’s her real father. Doesn’t he deserve to see her?”

“He forfeited all parental rights when he killed her mother with her in the apartment,” Stone added, standing towards the back of the room still.

“He was framed for that!” Sara looked up at Stone to Olivia, emphatic in her belief that her brother hadn’t anything to do with the murder of Rachel. “He’s a good man, he is. And he would’ve been a good father if those… _people_ hadn’t stolen Annabelle right out from under him! He never even had a chance to meet her, why is it fair that they get to raise her, and my brother never gets a chance to know his daughter?”

“Because your brother is a violent rapist and murderer,” Olivia answered, still inches away from Sara’s face, giving her the most intense stare she could muster. “You can’t really believe he’s a good man, Sara.”

“He is!” she yelled, her green eyes wide and full of sincerity. “Our parents were fucking useless! Mom was always drunk, and Dad left before I was even five. Carson was the _only_ one who was there for me growing up. He was eleven years old taking me to school, making me dinner, making sure I got my homework done… he was good to me, better than our mother ever was.”

Olivia didn’t want to hear that. She didn’t want to consider that once upon a time Carson Reynolds had been anything other than the terrible monster that shot a woman with his daughter in the apartment and then proceeded to try and get her foster-fathers killed, only to end up kidnapping her months later. She didn’t want him in any way shape or form humanized. She’d been in her line of work long enough to know that even monsters had loved ones, and that maybe once in their life they hadn’t been so cruel and heartless, but it never excused their actions. Carson Reynolds might’ve been a good brother, might’ve been there for his sister more so than their parents, but that didn’t mean anything.

“That doesn’t give him the right to kidnap Annabelle.”

Sara was silent, looking to the wall behind Olivia and staring intently at the glass window. Olivia could see the tears welling up in her eyes, she could tell by the way she was shaking slightly and by the way her foot was tapping that she was conflicted, maybe even feeling guilty.

“Where did you take her, Sara?” Olivia pleaded, backing up slightly and trying to soften her tone. “Tell us everything you know, and I promise you Mr. Stone will work out a deal with your lawyer. I don’t care if you go to jail or not, I just want Annabelle safe.”

“She is safe,” Sara answered, her voice soft and broken. From the way she spoke, Olivia could tell that she believed that her brother really cared about Annabelle, despite all the evidence otherwise. “Carson wouldn’t hurt her. He loves her, he does. She’s all he talks about, I mean… he just wants to be there for her, not like our dad. I know he hasn’t always made the best choices, but he’ll be a really good dad.”

“He sent someone to kill her foster-fathers, Sara,” Olivia said, pulling out a chair and sitting across from her. Sara opened her mouth to refute it, but Olivia kept talking. She made sure to keep her voice even and soft, choosing to reason with Sara instead of screaming at her like she wanted to. “You might think that Carson is a good man, and he might very well be good to you, but he had a woman killed for testifying against him after he raped her, he killed a little girl’s mother with her in the other room, he tried to get the only family she’d ever known killed, just because he feels like he’s entitled to her. He might’ve been a good brother growing up, and I know you love him, but you have to think about Annabelle and what’s best for her… not what’s best for him. She deserves that much.”

“Wherever the girl is, my client has—”

“Stop,” Sara whispered, cutting her lawyer off and shaking her head. She sniffled and bit her bottom lip a little before looking back at Olivia. “Are they good to her? Her foster-fathers?”

Olivia manage a small smile and a nod. It was a question that she didn’t have to think about. Rafael and Sonny loved Annabelle more than anything in the world, more than Carson Reynolds would ever love her. “Yeah, they are. They want to adopt her, give her a life that you know your brother can’t give her. The life that you didn’t get to have.”

Sara was silent for a couple seconds, looking away from Olivia and off to an empty spot on the interrogation room’s wall. She let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a choked sob before looking back to Olivia. “I’ll tell you, okay? But you can’t let Car know I told you so easy. He’ll hate me, and he’ll be so angry, and I… I just wanted him to be happy. I thought if I went along with all this, things would be good.”

Olivia let out a breath and nodded. “Tell me what you know.”

Sara let out a breath and let her shoulders drop. “Carson started calling me on a burner phone someone smuggled in not long after he got put in Rikers. I don’t know how he got it, I just know that once he did… he started getting these ideas about breaking out of jail.” She straightened up in her chair and looked down at her hands. She looked so conflicted, like she couldn’t decide if she felt guiltier for what she’d done or for betraying her brother.

“He got so angry on her birthday when she called Mr. Barba and he didn’t pick up, he kept going off about how it wasn’t right that someone else was raising her. He said that he had to get out, to get back to her, and he asked me if I would help him.”

“And you told him yes?”

Sara huffed a little, like it was the stupidest question she’d ever heard. “He’s my brother. He practically raised me, and I-I know he gets angry, and that he has issues, but… but he really wants to make things work with Annabelle. Be better than our dad, you know? So, I told him I’d help but I didn’t think he’d actually find a way to break out. I mean, it’s Rikers, I thought it’d be impossible for just one man to break out… but then he called me last night and told me that he had everything set in motion. He told me what to do and promised me everything would be okay. He told me once he and Annabelle were settled that I could come stay with them, that… that things would be good. You know, we could be a family, like we never really had.”

“What did he ask you to do?”

“A few weeks ago, he asked me to check out her foster-parents, their schedules, where she went to school, things like that. I thought he just wanted to make sure that they were being good to her, and that she was in a safe environment.”

 _Safer than she’d be with him,_ Olivia had to hold herself back from saying.

“But then last night he called and told me today was the day. He told me to pick Annabelle up at school. I didn’t think they’d let me take her at first, but they did. I took her from school to my apartment until Carson got there. He took her, then they left. I think he was gonna find a place for them to stay for the night then he was gonna try and cross the border to Canada.”

“Okay, okay,” Olivia said with a nod, starting to push herself out of the metal chair across from the younger Reynolds sibling. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. “Do you have any idea of anyone he might go to? Friends, relatives, associates…”

“No, no, it’s just us. He didn’t tell me a lot about what he was doing or where he was going. He told me it’d be safer for me and him if it was just a need-to-know basis,” she paused for a second and ran her hand through her short red hair. “He’s gonna hate me when he finds out I told you what I know. I promised him I wouldn’t tell anyone, I promised him I’d help and—”

“You did the right thing, Ms. Reynolds,” Stone finally cut in, stepping forward from where he stood in the back of the room. “As long as you’re telling us all you know, continue to cooperate, and agree to testify against your brother if it comes to it, I can assure you that your sentence won’t be nearly as harsh.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Sara responded, her head snapping up to look at Stone. “All I care about is my brother. I wanted him to be happy, I wanted _us_ to be happy, and—”

Olivia couldn’t waste any more time listening to Sara’s sob story. A part of her felt the slightest bit of pity for Sara, only if because it was clear that Carson had kept her feeling indebted to him since they were children. From the single conversation she’d had with Sara, Olivia got the impression that if Carson told Sara to jump, she’d respond with _how high?_

A bigger part of her couldn’t bring herself to feel pity. Regardless of what her brother had put her through growing up, the anger she was sure had been a part of him since childhood, the feelings of entitlement, it didn’t make up for the fact he’d had his sister kidnap Annabelle. Olivia knew that there was no way a child would be safe with him for very long, and the fact that Sara had handed Annabelle over to him just to make him happy made her sick.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact i wrote like 1/2 of this before seeing any episode with stone in it and had no idea i would despise him as much as i do right now i really only used him because i needed a lawyer that wasn't rafael. just don't want anyone to accuse me of being a peter stone fucker 😔🤘


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